The Ides of Time
by Coginom
Summary: SEQUEL to "Now a' is done": Year 2021. They have come to find her. When cars explode in Tel Aviv and a man enters the bullpen, two seemingly unrelated events send the world of Ziva David and Tony DiNozzo swirling out of control. Will they be able to protect their family and put right mistakes of the past? - AU with a big case, big twists, big feels, Tiva and McAbby. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

…the **SEQUEL** to its prequel _**"Now a' is done":**_

It promises what its predecessor provided: multifaceted reading entertainment - intricate plot, relationship conjuncture and, most importantly, all that we love about the show in one well-ordered package, carefully wrapped and twisted by yours truly.

You do not have to read _"Now a' is done"_ to understand this story, but I self-referentially invite you to do so anyway.

**DISCLAIMER:** I lay no claim to NCIS or its characters - they belong to those, whose intellectual property they are. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**Quickie-mart of facts: **_This story is slightly AU as it follows the events of the show only until the end of season 7, because that's when I started writing "Now a' is done"._

* * *

><p><strong>2021.<strong> Ziva David - not counting temporary operational stints, assignments abroad, visits and incarceration in an East African terrorist camp - had been living in the States for over seventeen years now, about eleven years of which as an US-American citizen. There, her life had always been indiscriminately linked to the life of one Anthony 'Tony' DiNozzo.

They met in 2005. They joined lives in 2010. David Jethro Anthony DiNozzo was born on July 5th 2012 and Talia Rosalie Eliana DiNozzo was born on October 2nd 2015. Their parents were NCIS agents, just like everyone they came to know as their true family.

**[Insert **_**"Now a' is done"**_** here.]** Three years ago Tony was still working at the NCIS outpost in Rota/Spain, when fate stepped in and brought them all together to fight a lethal conspiracy directed at each and every one of them. Learning from past mistakes, Tony then decided to return to his old post at NCIS headquarters, subsequently taking over the MCRT from Gibbs when he resigned one and a half years later.

Then again, however, just as the past tends to catch up with its attendants, past team members might be caught up in present quandaries once again. And right now was just about one of those times.

* * *

><p><strong>Default Chapter<br>**_The beginning of time_

**Monday, March 15th 2021**

"Where is she?"

"Now, if I knew _that,_ we would not be here in the first place, now would we?", the smaller of the two men countered irritably.

"We are closer than we have been in years, Nuri", a third man chimed in.

Lackluster greed built up behind the man's eyes. His name was Nuri, evidently. He was well towering over the other two men, but the mass of his physical weight merely compensated for the simplicity of his mind. But that simplicity made for the kind of focus that shot rounds into unsuspecting crowds and broke the limbs of uncooperative adversaries. It was the kind of focus that wasn't distracted by duty or loyalty the way it was for the other two.

This didn't mean, however, that either of them was any less determined to go through with their plan.

"We will get her…finally."

* * *

><p>Eli David stepped out into the early sun beams over Tel Aviv. He was hardly paying attention to the weather, though. He had his cell pressed to his right ear and clutched a black folder with his free hand. While he was still growling orders in muffled Hebrew to the voice on the other end, a woman followed him out into the morning.<p>

She seemed to be around 30 years old, slim build, her dark hair falling down her back in petite curls. She turned around and closed the door behind them, all the while ticking off a mental list of items that were supposed to fill the briefcase she was holding in one hand. She nodded to herself approvingly before she entered Eli's line of vision.

The moment she caught his deep blue eyes she started leading his way towards the rearmost of two identical black limousines parked, as usual, in front of the apartment they had just left. She opened the back door expectantly.

His right boot was already halfway in the car. Suddenly, however, Eli paused his present conversation. His eyes dropped to the briefcase in the woman's hand. Following his eyes, she gave a feeble nod and handed it over without another word. Eli gave a curt nod in the direction of the car in front of them.

"Bevakasha, Baila." With that he climbed in.

The woman with the name Baila carefully closed the door and moved to follow Eli's non-verbal order, getting into the other car. The moment she had fastened her seatbelt the small convoy set out for Eli's office at Mossad headquarters - like every day of every week.

For some time the cars kept switching places via several forks along the roads of the outer districts. They had just joined the motorway when a blazing ball of fire erupted and engulfed both cars in the shock waves of the explosion. The smashing sound of destruction ricocheted off the sides of skyscrapers and houses all over Tel Aviv. An oncoming car was crushed between the force of the blast and the guardrail. Flames sprang to life all over, gushing with heat and drops of fried blood. Smoke started painting the morning in a dark shade of gray. Alarms were shrieking. Sirens were howling. All else fell silent.

* * *

><p>Ziva was typing away at her keyboard, watching the letters skid along the virtual paper in front of her. It was Monday morning at NCIS headquarters in Washington D.C. and a small smile was playing on her lips.<p>

For a very passionate reason Tony and she had not gotten a lot of sleep last night. Still, knowing their children, Ziva had opted for a bathrobe to cover her otherwise naked body before she had fallen into well seduced and restful slumber. Tony, however, tired from their ardent work-out, had fallen asleep with the last kiss to her lips.

Suffice to say, their morning had announced itself with quite the entertainment factor, when Tali had played wake-up call even before their time to wake up. Watching Tony frantically clutch the covers to his body, pending the opportune moment to slip away from his giddy daughter - morning version 2.0 -, while the little girl was jumping in circles all over their bed, was enough to drive a smile to Ziva's face even hours later. Sure, she could have eased his discomfort by simply sweeping their daughter up and hauling her off to make breakfast, but her joyously merciless side prompted her to wait a little while before she had eventually done just that.

"You do know that staring holes into the side of my face will not make that stack of paper on your desk go away any faster, yes?", Ziva asked sweetly, the smile still very much apparent on her face, but without looking up.

"I'm condoning healthy voyeurism at the work place", Tony shot back, mimicking the sweetness in her voice.

The edges of her mouth twitched with silent amusement. "Have you learned nothing in those sexual harassment classes you keep exempting us from?"

"Oh, you mean that whole _boss-staff-line of command_-triangle?", Tony rebutted innocently, "I don't think that comes into effect when the sexual part of the harassment is confined exclusively to the shared bedroom."

"What about filing a complaint for having to listen to conversations like these?", McGee butted in from where he was sitting at his desk, his face showing definite signs of irritation as Tony and Ziva waved him off with matching smirks.

"Don't take your frustration out on us, Probie", Tony said.

"Is Liora still not over her _'My room is home to thousands of nameless monsters no matter how many lights you leave on at night'_-phase?", Ziva asked her partner-in-the-field with knowing sympathy.

"Nope, and after declaring Abby's and my bed the only safe place in the entire house, I don't see when she would", McGee moped, "But on our way to work this morning Abby was babbling on about a child-friendly but no less indicative exorcism. So, maybe there's hope…"

Tony, references from _Father Merrin_ to _Emily Rose_ on his lips, was stopped short by the shrill ringing of his desk phone. It was enough to make both Ziva and McGee abandon their current task and line of conversation. Tony's office phone seldom rang. For new cases Director Vance usually called him on his cell; to contacts, witnesses and villains he usually offered his cell number; and anything to do with the kids would alert his or Ziva's cell as well. At any rate, desk calls were highly unusual and they usually pertained to some unusual inner-office matter.

Tony murmured a curt answer into the receiver before hanging up again. "Someone's requested to see the MCRT, specifically", he answered Ziva's and McGee's questioning gazes at once.

After a minute of anticipative silence the elevator announced their somewhat mysterious visitor with the familiar _ding_. A few footsteps later they came face to face with a man. He had shoulder-long dark brown hair that was extended to his face by a few days' worth of stubble. He was dressed in casual slacks and a shirt. His face showed no real expression.

Tony had already stood up and rounded his desk. He extended his hand. "Special Agent Tony DiNozzo."

The man looked at Tony's hand for a second and, without shaking it, back up into his face. "My name is Ian Johnston and I have information you need", he stated.

"On what?", Tony shot back a little irritably.

"A case."

"We have a tip hotline for that", McGee cut in.

"That won't work", the man named Ian Johnston declared.

"Why?"

Johnston alternated his expressionless gaze between the three agents who hadn't yet realized what their innocent morning had just turned into.

"Because there's no case…_yet_."

* * *

><p><em>Interested? Continue - not continue? Give your (dis)comfort a voice, make it your review!<em>


	2. Eastern Tides

**Chap 2 Eastern Tides**

…**two weeks prior...**

Ziva could hardly remember a time when she had flown to Israel on an ordinary charter flight. Almost all her life she had spent in cargo planes, flying from one mission to the next, fleeing from one country to the next. It seemed so long ago now. And it was, really. The last time she had walked a military airfield outside Tel Aviv had been twelve years ago, when she had arrived to seek solace after Michael Rivkin's death and had found chaos instead - and death, almost. But those times were long behind her. She hadn't actually been to her home country in four years.

Four years ago she had taken the red eye to attend the funeral of her cousin Adena and her husband Sol. Sol had been part of Ziva's unit during her kidon training. Adena, five years Ziva's senior, had joined Mossad on her own accord. She had been her Aunt Nettie's daughter and the only one from her mother's side of the family to actually enter into that world, Eli's world. Her and Sol's death had hit Ziva pretty hard. Once again she had watched caskets being sucked up by the ground. She had been painfully reminded of her own mother's closed casket, not being able to see her one last time and yet knowing that she would feel that way for the rest of her life.

Still, she couldn't deny the little knot of excitement that had grown decidedly in the pit of her stomach ever since they had lifted off American soil. No matter the hardship, the sacrifice and the loss she had born there, she still felt that tugging connection to Israel. It was the country where she had been born, the country she had grown up in - the country of so many memories. And yet, counting all the time she had spent abroad on missions, she had probably only spent good half of her life there. It still was home, though - a different kind of home. Israel was where her roots were. Washington, NCIS, her family - that's where her branches thrived.

That was reality, that was her present. Her life had changed, taking many detours and still arriving at where she felt she was supposed to be: Just like she was supposed to be sitting next to her little five-year-old daughter right now. Ziva looked over at Tali and smiled at her daughter's amazement watching the clouds soar by. Tony and she had arranged for the kids to each get a seat by the window and rightly so: Casting a swift glance to her right, David wasn't any less mesmerized by the celestial scenery.

Again and again Tali reached over, grabbing any part of Ziva's clothing or hand that she could reach, so that Ziva could share in her wonderment. The little girl would narrate all that she was seeing, listening intently when Ziva told her stories about the countries they were currently crossing over. Their flight had been a long one. Hours. Long hours. Tony and Ziva had come prepared, armed with notepads and games and books and all sorts of portable electronic devices - but hours on end in such confined space with a child as easily bored as Tali was challenging. Ziva liked to think of it as a challenge, really.

They had even allowed them to stay up especially late last night, seeing as the flight would have gone over much faster if they had slept through most of it. And while David had pretty much followed that conniving plan, Tali wouldn't have any of it. She had dosed off for only about an hour and solely under the condition of using her mother's torso as a makeshift pillow. The rest of the time Ziva had exhausted herself repeating the stories she had been telling them ever since finalizing their plans for the trip to Haifa. Tony had had a slightly easier task with David since the eight-year-old could easily occupy himself with one of his books, but even a kid as composed as David was unnerved by the endless hours of flying at some point. That's why both Tony and Ziva were immensely grateful when the sky cleared up about two hours short of Haifa, gluing both Tali and David to their respective windows.

As the approach for landing commenced, however, both children anxiously scrambled closer to the parent nearest to them. David clutched Tony's hand but was unable to take his eyes off of what was happening beyond the glass. Tali on the other hand buried herself in Ziva's side, whimpering every time the droning pressure in her ears built up painfully. The little girl was more than happy when the plane eventually touched down.

"You sure he's gonna pick us up?", Tony inquired for the tenth time since departing the plane. He was pushing the trolley with their luggage, David holding onto one of his hands while the eight-year-old tried to absorb the thrill and bustle around him.

Ziva had lost a little bit of confidence in her definite affirmation with each time he asked. She really didn't know how visits or trips for the sheer leisure of it worked. She realized she had fairly seldom taken a trip just for the heck of it - let alone to Israel.

"I really don't know", she conceded, tugging a little on Tali's hand as the little girl kept shuffling behind.

The moment they stepped out into the searing sun of Haifa and took a look around, however, Tony deadpanned, "Never mind."

His eyes had just fallen on the black limousine waiting right outside and the man, who looked like a scrapbook bodyguard, holding up a piece of paper with 'David' written on it. A small huff escaped Tony's lips; it would have been too much to ask for it to read 'DiNozzo' instead, but he still couldn't help it.

Tony quickly helped the man load their bags into the trunk. Then the man turned to Ziva, who was still waiting beside the car with the kids. "To the mansion, yes?"

"Ken."

He nodded obediently. Immediately, he took a step back and held his arm out, offering Ziva to take the seat behind the steering wheel.

A small smile formed on Ziva's lips and she bent down, scooping Tali up into her arms. "That will not be necessary."

And with that they climbed into the back seat with Tony and David. Inside, Ziva found Tony smirking at her.

"What?", she asked innocently.

Tony's mouth opened, but for a second no sound escaped. Then suddenly, "So…mansion, huh?"

* * *

><p>Once again Tali and David were glued to the windows of the car as it meandered through the streets of Haifa, its coastline glittering in the distance. Since the rows were facing each other, David had taken a seat opposite Ziva, in whose lap Tali was listening just as intently to the stories Ziva was telling - the way it appeared to Tony - about each and every building, street, booth or puddle they were driving by.<p>

Tony on the other hand was sitting next to David and no matter how fascinated his entire family was by the goings-on outside, his green eyes were enamored by the sight of his partner. He could tell Ziva was way beyond enjoying herself. She was gesticulating excitedly, her voice laden with a fervor far outweighing her usual serene cool. The edges of her mouth twitched eagerly with every question one of the kids shot at her. It was simple: She was happy. Tony knew that Israel didn't only hold cuddly happy memories for Ziva. Israel was the country she had lost most of her family in - and to. And Israel was also the country that had paved the roads her life had taken unlike any other country in the world - even America. If it hadn't been for Israel, she would have never ended up where she was now. No matter the hard feelings Tony harbored for the country he could hardly associate with anything remotely happy - other than Ziva being born there -, it were moments like these that made him forget his reserve.

He knew Ziva had always wanted to take the kids to her home country, but he hadn't realized just how much. It still hadn't been an easy and quick commitment for them. Ever since their somewhat overdue talks with Eli three years ago the relationship between father and estranged daughter had started to mend - slowly, mind you. For Tony, however, it had always been a matter of appeasing his aversion against the man, who - in his eyes - had disappointed and abandoned the woman he loved on many a precarious occasion. But when he saw that peaceful glisten in Ziva's eyes every time a phone conversation with Eli hadn't ended in a fight, it was enough for Tony. He couldn't help it, he still didn't like the guy - but he could at least stop outright detesting him, if only for Ziva's sake.

And the kids' for that matter. Surprising them both, Eli had really meant what he had told Ziva in that hotel room three years ago: He really wanted to be more involved in the lives of his - only - grandchildren. And even more to their surprise, the kids actually liked him. Of course, Ziva was determined to assure his model behavior every time he visited. It hadn't been an easy set-up.

Both he and Ziva had opposed the idea of just dragging the kids to Israel to visit a grandfather they had never seen and hardly even knew they had. That opposition had culminated in the first fight between Ziva and her father since their fall-out about a year after quitting Mossad. Tony remembered that day well. He had taken the kids to the park to give Ziva some privacy. When they had returned two hours later due to the oncoming rain, he had found Ziva yelling at the computer screen and Eli yelling back from there. The screen had turned black within seconds of their arrival and there had been definite signs of angry tears in Ziva's eyes. It had also probably been the first time the kids had ever heard their mother yell - and they had been frightened enough.

Eli, a few similar but alleviated conversations later, had eventually come around. Subsequently, he had come to Washington to visit the kids about three times a year since then, always staying for about a week - and at a hotel. Both Eli and Ziva knew they couldn't be trusted among each other in too confined a living-arrangement. In-between he called, set up video conferences with them and sent the occasional present. He had stopped forgetting birthdays and other holidays, even though he still didn't quite approve of Ziva celebrating Christmas and not Hanukkah. Even his conversations with Ziva had become more frequent and their topical repertoire had carefully surpassed an in-depth comparison of the weather in Tel Aviv and Washington. Even more surprisingly, however, the kids had taken to him quite seamlessly. They actually liked him, really liked him.

Then again, however, Eli was quite different around Tali and David. A lot of that could be attributed to a visit Ziva and Tony had paid Eli before his first meeting with his grandchildren. In preparation, Ziva had laid down some ground rules Tony and she had been discussing: some sensitive essentials along the lines of _'Do not speak badly about Ari - or avoid talking about him at all'_ or _'Do not mention Mossad, or anything about Mossad'_ or _'Do not tell them their mother is a trained assassin'_. Innocent things like that.

For a moment there Tony had actually feared their little visit would go down no less earsplitting than Ziva's and Eli's previous conversations of that sort, but something had stopped that from happening. Just as Eli was about to raucously reproach them for patronizing him like that, Ziva cut in with the simplest request possible: _"Try to be the way you were before Ima died."_

After a small silence he had merely asked them to leave. But Ziva's words had still had the desired effect: Eli David, the same man who had ordered his daughter to kill her brother, the same man who had sent her on a suicide mission, that same man was now Saba Eli to their kids.

And now, after Eli had done pretty much everything Ziva - in accord with Tony - had asked him to do, they had finally agreed to visit him in Israel, in their summer residence in Haifa no less. When they had finally arrived and their chauffeur had opened the car doors, Tony finally realized why they had been calling it a 'mansion': Ziva hadn't been kidding calling it _'a little bigger'_.

The house was induced by a gravel roundabout, in the center of which various flowers - half of which Tony had never seen before - were competing for visual dominance. A long driveway cut the garden in half, leading down to the iron gate they had just entered through. One could oversee the entire garden from where they were standing, but it still looked huge, framed by macchia and intermitted by all sorts of plants. And sure enough, on a small fleck of grass next to the house there was a small batch of gagea dayana in full grandeur, flowers distinguished by their resemblance to yellow stars, and incidentally Ziva's favorites.

"They are blooming especially late this year", Eli called out as he came down the steps, recognizing the direction Tony's head had turned.

Tony merely nodded at him, shaking his hand. Both men held their jaws in place, but their mutual examination was cut short by screams of _"Saba, Saba!"_

Ziva quickly put Tali on the ground, so that she could follow her brother in their sprint towards Eli. They each grabbed one of his hands.

"We flew on a really big plane for a really long time", Tali boasted instantly.

"Daddy said he's never been a plane that big before either", David chimed in.

"And we saw clouds all over."

"And Haifa from up in the sky."

"Yeah, and I got really scawed when we came down, 'cause there was water all around", Tali declared, her voice so sincerely heavy and solemn it drove a smile to all the adults' faces.

"So much water, yes?", Eli reestablished.

"Uh-huh", Tali nodded her head seriously, "And my ear hurt bad, but mommy- mommy said, she said hers did too and when you took her flying for the first time, her- her ears hurt s'well."

"Did they now?", Eli inquired, lifting his head from his granddaughter's shrug to look at his daughter.

Ziva had relocated to stand next to Tony and was watching the display between her kids and her father with a quiet smile on her face. She arched an eyebrow at his knowing smirk.

"Ziva", he called out softly.

"I believe it was a transport aircraft, yes?", Ziva asked, taking a few steps towards him.

"An IAI-201 Arava to be exact", he remarked lightly.

When Ziva was within his reach, he let go of David and Tali, who were still hugging his sides, and carefully took her face in his hands. "Shalom, Ziva."

"Shalom, Abba."

He kissed her forehead. "Thank you for doing this."

Ziva had seldom felt his words to be as sincere as they had just been. She merely nodded her head, feeling a little overwhelmed by his instant and open gratefulness. Thankfully, however, Eli then turned back to his grandchildren and ushered them inside. Ziva watched them, David and Tali skipping along happily, their heads tilted upward to bombard their grandfather with questions and imminent news.

Suddenly, she could feel Tony's hand on the small of her back and she allowed herself to lean a little into him. He kissed the side of her face. "You okay?", he asked.

She nodded. "A lot of memories", she answered softly, her eyes drifting over the scenery.

"Happy ones?"

"In Haifa…most of them happy ones, yes."

"Then let's go and make some more, shall we?"

He offered her his hand and with a small smile she took it, allowing him to lead her into the house she had once spent all her summers in. She remembered the games she and her siblings had played in its rooms and on the grounds, the days spent at the beach, the nights spent caught up in a world of make-believe they had created for themselves. Those were the kind of memories she wanted her children to take away from this visit, even though she knew it probably would be different for herself.

* * *

><p>When Eli insisted on giving them a tour of the house, Ziva had agreed with a smile. He really was trying very hard. She wasn't sure if he knew how much that meant to her, she wasn't even sure if she knew how much it really meant to herself. It hit her every time she saw some glint of admiration or affection or acceptance in the eyes of her children, directed at the man she had spent so much time faulting for all his shortcomings as the father she had wanted him to be: She was seeing versions of herself, her own admiration for his unwavering presence, her own affection for her father, her own acceptance that he was the way he was. It had taken her years and years of endless struggle to realize that she had to take him for who he was. She couldn't change him and he wouldn't change on her account. He wasn't the father she wanted him to be, had hardly ever been, but he was her father nonetheless. Seeing him with David and Tali, however, made it seem as if he could still be the grandfather she needed him to be.<p>

"He's actually enjoying himself", Tony asserted from beside her, jerking Ziva out of her reverie.

"A little hard to believe, isn't it?", Ziva retorted quietly.

"_Mr.-Hyde-ing_ me every time."

She refocused in time to see Eli lift Tali up to look out of a window, which - at about eight feet in diameter - made up most of the pediment above the big staircase in the hall. Ziva could remember climbing up there for the first time with Ari's help: Because the house was situated on a small hill and that window was at the back of it, it allowed for an amazing view over the lower districts of Haifa. So many years ago, Ziva would align her back to its large frame and just look at the city: thinking, reading, listening.

"Mommy, you gotta see this!", David called over to her. Tony had given Eli a hand and together they had helped David climb up. A laugh dripped from Ziva's lips when she realized he was sitting in almost the exact same position she had been in times and times again.

"You can see the whole city", Tali boasted, looking up at Ziva with wide eyes.

"I know, tateleh", Ziva returned softly.

"Your mother would always sit up there, sometimes the whole day long", Eli explained while Tony and he helped David down again.

"Really?", Tony inquired, an eager smile forming on his face. They hardly ever talked to each other about their respective childhoods anymore. Too much were they caught up in creating one for their own children.

"It certainly was my second favorite spot in the entire house", Ziva answered.

"Second favorite? So what took the prize?"

"The library", Eli answered quickly, before Ziva could even open her mouth.

He couldn't see the look of surprise on her face as he was already leading the way up the stairs to their left and down a long corridor. Tony couldn't help but feel a little excited himself - almost as if he was feeling what David and Tali were displaying in full motion. He hadn't realized that a trip into Ziva's past was such an entreating thought to him. When he noticed the woman in question trailing behind, however, he fell back. He took her hand in his, caressing its back softly with the tips of his fingers.

"Voilà!", Eli exclaimed and pushed open a door to his right.

Instantly, Tali and David sprinted in, Tony and Ziva following behind on slightly slower steps. Tony's eyes went wide with awe when the impressions of the room were finally reaching through his eyes to the part of his brain in charge of processing. The room was at least twice as high as the other rooms they had seen thus far - almost reaching the heights of the entrance hall. The walls on both lengths were enlaced with bookshelves touching the ceiling with a soft, carved tap. The ceiling itself was made up of glass, kept in place by small iron rods, and was flooding the room in an ocean of sunlight. The wood of the shelves was showing off its grain and the floor was covered in grayish red stone tiling. In each corner of the room there was an identical seating assemblage: a settee, an ottoman, an armchair. A ladder was clearing the path to reach even the uppermost books. And there were books all over. The shelves were filled with books to the rim in width and height.

Tali, silenced by awe, stood rooted to the tiling beneath her. Tony's mouth was still gaping open at the amount of books in front of him. Eli sported a satisfied grin, having attained the reactions he had anticipated. David, a little dazed by the room as well, backed himself into Ziva's legs. "You read all of them?"

Ziva laughed softly. "No, neshomeleh. There are far too many."

"You certainly tried", Eli put in.

"Can we read one of them?", David asked, finally tearing his eyes off the shelves and looking at Ziva hopefully.

"I tell you what", Ziva answered, "Let us finish your Saba's tour first and tonight we will come back here and you can pick one of them for me to read to you, yes?"

David nodded.

A few feet away, Tali finally discarded her stance and went over to Tony. Looking at him with curio, she tilted her head to the side and started tugging at his shirt. When Tony looked down at her with a frown, the little girl declared innocently, "Unca Gibbs say when you leave your mouth open like that a frog will catch...a fly in it."

Tony chuckled, scooping his daughter up into his arms. "Is that so?"

"Uh-huh. And flies are really yucky, too. I gave Liora one and she look like you eatin' Auntie Abby's lunch."

Ziva merely scowled at him, before she and David followed Eli out. "Princess, we really gotta work on your super-secret-agent lying capabilities", Tony sighed.

"Mommy says lying's bad", Tali reiterated dutifully, wiggling her index finger in front of Tony's face.

"Well, that's Rule Number One, principessa", Tony countered, lowering his voice to a whisper, "Lying is bad...when your mom catches you doing it."

"Silly daddy", she chuckled.

"Point well taken."

He flashed a DiNozzo-certified grin at her, making her laugh out even more. They caught up with the other three at the main staircase, following them down a different hallway. Eli pointed at various doors all along, certifying their respective guest rooms. When he skipped a door, though, Tony took it as a cue to stop in front of it.

"What's in there?", he asked ingenuously, locking eyes with Eli.

Suddenly, however, he could see Eli's jaw clam up. "It's locked", he answered curtly, turned around and continued down the corridor.

Surprised at the change of demeanor, Tony shot Ziva a look, expecting her eyes to back him up. Instead, however, he found Ziva staring at the door, her brown eyes a little lost in the sight. They eventually refocused when they were jerked out of their stupor by David's incessant tugging at her hand as the little boy wanted to catch up with his grandfather.

She complied, but, feeling Tony's questioning gaze needling her back, she explained softly, "Ima's study."

Tony didn't say another word, but when he passed her, he briefly caught her free hand and squeezed it, telling her all that she needed to know. Eventually, they crossed a threshold of wooden double doors and found themselves standing on a patio, overlooking the grounds. A table was taking up its center, five chairs neatly situated in a circle around it. There were plates, glasses, cutlery and food - a lot of food.

"I believe you must be hungry", Eli announced, the amused smile celebrating a vital comeback on his face.

Ziva shook her head with a smile. While Eli offered Ziva a seat, Tony placed Tali on the chair upholstered by a pillow next to Ziva, before sitting down beside her. Tali was quickly demanding all sorts of edibles on her plate and Ziva started cutting up everything into digestible pieces. Tony did the same for David. In the meantime the eight-year-old listened intently as Eli explained the Hebrew names of everything in front of them.

A few minutes after the digging-in had begun, David declared unceremoniously, "That's really good."

Tali nodded her affirmation enthusiastically, adding quickly, "Now we can stay."

* * *

><p>A satisfying dinner later Tony and Ziva had taken the kids back inside. While it was Tony's turn at bathing duty, Ziva busied herself unpacking in all three of their rooms. After they had each tucked one of the kids in, Tony had gone to take a shower. Half an hour later he found Ziva sitting in one of the settees out on the patio, reading a book. He could tell from the position her head was in - slightly tilted to the right - that it was Hebrew. If he had hoped to catch a few hours of one-on-one-time, however, Tony's hopes were crushed the moment he stepped out further. Eli was sitting on the other side, a cigar in one hand and a file in the other. Tony couldn't help but see the similarities between father and daughter - from the way they held their heads to the look on their faces.<p>

"You two make it look so appealing", Tony quipped, "I'm almost tempted to get a book just to make it a reading threesome."

"That would prove to be a little difficult actually", Eli countered, putting his file down.

Tony took a seat in one of the nearby deckchairs. "Why's that?"

"Because they are all Hebrew, my love", Ziva elucidated with a small smile.

"Nell for bookworms."

Eli disregarded Tony's comment and offered instead, "How about a glass of wine at the end of an eventful day?"

"Sure."

Ziva nodded and Eli got up and vanished in the house. Tony immediately seized his chance: He went over to his partner for ten years, leant over the back of her chair and caught her lips from behind. After the first second of surprise Ziva arched her neck and deepened the kiss, her hand instantly letting go of the book and lingering on his cheek instead.

When they eventually broke apart, a smile was adorning her face. "And you could not do that in front of my father?"

"Nope", he answered quickly, his lips landing on hers once more. Then he sat down on the ground next to her chair.

"I am pretty sure he knows about us, Tony", Ziva retorted.

"Nah…I'm still afraid he'll make me pay him off with a dozen goats or something", Tony mused half-jokingly, taking to stroking her thigh.

"A dozen goats?", Ziva exclaimed, "That is all that I'm worth to you?"

"I would at least demand five camels on top of that", Eli cut in from where he re-entered the patio, cutting Tony off before he could say anything.

Tony was right, at least in part. Eli wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea - let alone the open display - of his daughter with Agent Tony DiNozzo. However, he had long abandoned the notion that he had any say in the way Ziva was conducting her life. She was making her own decisions. She had proven that unmistakably after Somalia. Eli had realized a few years ago that forcing his will upon his daughter was merely driving her further away from him. And it was around that same time that he had realized he didn't want that.

He handed each of them a glass of red wine before taking his seat again. "To Tali and David", he toasted.

"Hear, hear."

"I cannot believe how much they have grown since my last visit", Eli mused, leaning back in his chair.

"They do grow up fast", Ziva put in.

"It has been five years. Enough time to be thinking about another one, yes?", Eli asked suddenly, turning his head so that Tony could see some kind of expectation in the older man's eyes.

Tony was holding Ziva's hand and could distinctly feel her tense up. Questions about a future DiNozzo-trio were never easy for her. Heck, they weren't exactly a piece of cake for him either. But they had developed an easy and quick defense mechanism for occasions like these. They would simply point out that they had never planned on more than two kids, that two were enough, that they were happy with what they had got and didn't want more. It wasn't a complete lie either. They were happy with what they had got. The thing was, though, they couldn't know for sure that they wouldn't have considered the possibility of another child if at all possible.

"Not really", Tony fended the question off quickly.

"Do you not even think about it?"

Tony couldn't believe that Eli of all people would press the matter in such a way. Ziva had become very still and silent next to him and he could understand why. Strangers asking about the prospect of a third child - that they had a flight plan for. Her father, however, inquiring about the prospect of a third grandchild was an entirely different matter.

"We're happy with what we got, actually. So…no", Tony declared flatly.

"Not even-"

But before Eli could finish his sentence, Ziva had gotten up from her chair. "Excuse me."

Tony took the glass she handed to him, a silent sigh leaving his lips. He watched her go, knowing that she was holding her head as steady as she could. Eli was doing the same, watching her go, any words stunned by her sudden exit. Tony could see the questions burning behind his eyes, but Eli refused to turn his head to meet his quasi-son-in-law's bewildered gaze.

"We can't have any more kids", Tony explained voicelessly, "She can't."

"That is impossible. She had two children, why should she not be able to have a third if she so wished", Eli countered stubbornly.

Tony could feel the adrenalin rush his veins in search for the switch in his mind that would open the gates and make him say all those abhorrent truths running through his head. He wanted to tell the man in front of him of a truth that was imminent to them every day of their life together. Ziva had been through hell. And Tony, McGee and Gibbs - and all the others on the home front - had rescued her, brought her to freedom when no one else had. Tony wanted to tell him, it was because Ziva had been kicked and beaten, because her wounds had become infected, because she had slept in her own filth. Tony wanted to tell him, it was because Ziva had been repeatedly raped and torn apart inside. He wanted to tell him, it was because she had been impregnated, because she had miscarried and lost her unknown and nameless baby. He wanted to tell him, it was because she could have died giving birth to David and Tali. The more Tony heard his mind charge through all of this, the more his anger neared boiling point.

Tony felt himself grit his teeth and tried to loosen his jaw enough to say but one word, "Somalia."

For a moment he saw Eli tense up, then the older man adumbrated a nod. Silence followed while neither of them dared to move and that word spread out between them in all its excruciating grandeur. Tony watched some kind of flying insect tirelessly circle the light emitted by one of the lanterns above their heads. He watched it hurtle itself into its glass frontier repeatedly and couldn't help but relate.

"It is always going to be there."

Without looking Tony nodded his head.

* * *

><p>Eli had soon excused himself wordlessly and Tony was relieved that he had. There had been no words either one of them could have said. Somalia. It was what it was. There was no way around it. Somalia had changed Ziva's life in a way neither of them could ever entirely comprehend. Somalia had concluded her time at Mossad - and initiated a full life at and loyalty to NCIS. Somalia had shattered her - and given her the chance to reassemble herself. Somalia, ultimately, had turned her life around into a completely different direction. And really, how could they hold a grudge against the one event in their life that had led them towards each other, their children, their life?<p>

It wasn't as simple as that, though, Tony knew that - Ziva knew that and even Eli knew that. Somalia would also always be the one event in their lives that would stand between them, forever. Eli would always have to live with what he had concerted. It was one of the things he and Ziva never talked about for they each knew that it could only damage their frail relationship further. Ziva would never be able to forget what had happened to her there. Sometimes she would still wake, plagued by the torment of memories. And Tony knew that he simply couldn't fathom the agony Ziva had gone through. There were times when he was reminded of how little he could do now, years later, to ease the imminent pain of it: when he found her thrashing around in her sleep; when she insisted on going home alone after interviewing rape victims, victims of battering or spousal abuse; when too much legal flexibility aroused a tirade on moral standards and constitutional rights in her.

Tony wasn't quite sure, if Ziva wanted to be alone right now, so he eventually gave in to his urge and followed her anyway.

He scoffed quietly to himself as he wandered down the corridors. He remembered Tali questioning the scar on Ziva's right wrist a few days ago. It was an innocent question. They had been sitting on the couch, Tali at Ziva's side with her mother's arm loosely draped over her. The five-year-old had started playing with Ziva's hand out of sheer ennui. She had never paid much attention to it before, but seeing the scar on her mother's wrist up close, her five-year-old mind had converted her fascination into a direct question. Tony had been sitting only inches away from them and had felt that blatant helplessness. Right then and there, Ziva had outright lied to their little girl, attributing the faded injury to some accident in her past, nothing serious. She had dodged his eyes afterwards. And once again, Somalia had been there, right in the middle of their life.

When he knocked on the guest room that was currently their shared bedroom, he got no answer. Carefully opening the door he didn't find her inside either. He closed the door with a frown on his face. He walked a little further down the corridor and peeked into Tali's and David's rooms. Both kids were sleeping peacefully but Ziva was nowhere to be seen. He was just about to turn around and try the library as the next obvious choice, when he was alerted by a faint shimmer of light emitted by a room right around the corner.

"It can't be…", he murmured to himself.

Turning the corner, however, he was proven wrong - or right for that matter. The door in question really was open, the small crack bestowing the opposite wall with a small streak of light. Tony's hand immediately cradled the doorknob but something was holding him back from pushing the door open. After all, a few hours ago Eli had rebuffed his interest into this room with a brisk _'It's locked'_.

Bracing himself with a sigh, his concern for Ziva got the best of him, however, and he finally nudged the door open. He was met by the smell of settled dust and forlorn mustiness. Eli wasn't kidding, the door had probably been locked since Eliana's death…thirty-one years ago.

The room wasn't big. There was a window to his left and Tony felt a knowing smile creep onto his face when he could unmistakably see the bed of gagea dayana in their late bloom right beyond the glass. The bookshelf behind the simple but massive wooden desk was empty except for empty picture frames, binders and folders. There was a red couch beneath the window, covered by an abundance of pillows, their color long faded. On the other side the white wall was intersected by a broad, red band of color. Along its upper portion three pictures had gathered copious amounts of dust - so much even, Tony could hardly make out the faces captured in them.

The middle one, however, had just been relieved of some of its dusty coating, rendering four smiling faces prominently visible. Ziva had obviously brushed over it with her hand before settling down on the floor. That's how Tony found her, leaning against the side of the desk and her head raised towards that picture.

"I thought this was locked", Tony observed, sitting down next to her.

Ziva held up some lock-picking tools without turning to look at him. "They were still hidden in the pantry where I left them."

Tony nodded wordlessly, his eyes now scanning the picture Ziva had chosen to clean. It showed a woman in her thirties sitting on a blanket in the middle of what Tony recognized was the roundabout in front of the house: her long dark hair cascading down her back in wide curls, her eyes were dark, her skin a tone of light olive. A little girl of about three years was sitting in her lap and clapping excitedly. They were both looking to their right at a little boy at about David's age reading from a piece of paper in his hand and another little girl with a cunning smile, unruly dark curls and a blanket thrown over her shoulders. He remembered that girl and that boy from the picture in the study back in their apartment in Washington. Doing the math, Tony realized he was looking at a picture of Eliana and Talia David, Ziva's mother and baby sister, in their garden in Haifa attending what seemed to be a makeshift performance of something-or-other staged by none other than Ziva and Ari during an age of innocence.

"It's so strange, being back here with all of you", he heard her say in but a breath of a whisper.

"Good strange or bad strange?", he asked.

She smiled. "You know, the last time I was here I was departing for my first mission in Paris the next day. I spent all day cooped up in the library after my father had dragged me away from a shooting range downtown", Ziva remembered, leaning her head back against the carved wood, "He told me to concentrate on shooting fewer bullets, not more."

"Sounds just like his hunky-dory side."

"Tali was dead. Ari was gone. Only I was left and he was sending me away", Ziva relayed quietly, "He wanted me close, he wanted me in the house. I knew it even then, but we still ended up fighting."

"Well, he does have some issues with showing how he feels", Tony quipped lightly, turning his head to smile at her.

"_That_ he feels, you mean", Ziva corrected, returning his smile.

"Your words, not mine." He smirked and put his hand on top her hers.

"He was different once, you know", Ziva mused, nodding towards the picture on the wall, "That play Ari and I are doing was his idea. He loved putting on a show for her."

Tony could see how her eyes grew distant. "It's kinda hard to believe, though...now."

"You see him with Tali and David. He can be different…if he has a reason to be."

"He does have a slight Balu-meets-Rafiki-vibe going, I gotta admit", Tony laughed, trying to drown out the deep notes Ziva's voice kept striking again and again.

A smile persisted on Ziva's lips.

An easy silence settled between them for a while. In the meantime Tony's eyes roamed the study a second time and Ziva's eyes were stuck on her hand in his. It was a small gesture, but she felt safe. It was odd to be sitting in her mother's old study with the man she loved, the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with, the father of her children. It was odd thinking that a batch of memories could change so much.

"When was the last time you were in here?"

Ziva huffed. "So long... He was not kidding, you know? After Ima's death he had the maid empty it out and then he locked it. I think he even dumped the key somewhere he would never find it again. Nobody was ever allowed back in here…"

"You remember anything?"

"I remember everything about that day."

"When you were last in here?"

"When I was last in here…yes…"

He nodded curtly.

"It was late in the evening. I had spent most of the day looking after Tali, because Ari had broken his arm in a stupid game of his and he had called our mother. She had gone to the hospital right away and I had been stuck with my baby sister", Ziva started out lightly, a faraway look in her eyes.

Tony squeezed her hand.

"I wanted to surprise her and so, after putting Tali to bed, I hid in her study under the desk." Ziva pointed over her shoulder against the wood supporting her back.

"Did it work?", Tony inquired sweetly.

"I never got around to", Ziva answered simply, "When she came in, she was fighting with Abba. The whole time they were yelling at each other, I was hiding under that desk, not understanding a word of it. When they were finally done and had left, I crawled out and went straight to bed, too scared to tell anyone I had been there." She slowly turned her head to meet Tony's emerald eyes that had been staring at her the whole time with that comforting glisten of his.

"That was the last time?"

"The last time I had ever been in here…until now", Ziva reiterated slowly, "A week later Ima was dead."

It was odd, really. Even after thirty years, that loss still left a gaping hole in every sentence, in every story, in every memory. But Tony could relate. He put a hand on her cheek. "You know this will never happen to our kids, right?"

She nodded, somewhat half-heartedly.

"It won't. It won't…and not just because the shape of the desk in our study back home is so not endorsing that kind of hide-and-seek and…not just because we don't ever fight…", Tony rambled adroitly, adding as an afterthought, "…at least openly. It won't happen because we won't let it happen, you hear me?"

"Yes, Tony, I hear you." Ziva smiled appreciatively at the tone of utter sincerity in his voice and leaned in to kiss him.

"I love you, crazy ninja woman."

"I love you, too." It was a simple as that.

They remained in that same position for another half an hour, just leaning against the wood of a desk that bore the memories of past days - right next to each other.


	3. Through Stranger Terms

**Chap 3 Through stranger terms**

When Tony woke up to another day in Haifa, a small smile crept onto his face. Neither Tali nor David had relocated to their bedroom during the night, properly worn out by the events of their little adventure to Israel. Just when he was about to let his arm lasciviously cross over to the other side of the bed, he realized he was very much tapping the naught. He turned over to find Ziva's side of the bed empty, disheveled but empty. He sighed. The best _laying_ plans…

He took a quick shower and then set out to track down his partner. Not overthinking the matter he went straight for the kitchen - or at least where he thought the kitchen would be. When he rounded the corner, soft voices reached out to him and one of them sounded very much like Ziva. He followed it and, opening a door to his right, really did discover a kitchen at least twice as big as theirs in Washington. In it Ziva was standing at the counter, currently hacking into various sorts of vegetables. The maid they had met the day before was standing next to her, working on what he deduced would be their breakfast as well. The two women were chatting away in Hebrew, thus leaving Tony entirely clueless as to the content.

When the maid went to fetch something from a cupboard, her eyes fell on Tony standing in the doorframe. "Boker tov", she greeted cheerily.

"Boker tov", Tony replied politely with a little less confident enunciation. Living among three Hebrew-pros he had picked up on some basic phrases needed for day-to-day dabble.

Ziva turned around with an easy smile on her face. "Good morning, my love."

He went over and they kissed, lingering a little too long on each other's lips for it to be merely the chaste peck of morning routine. She smiled against him. "You're up early", Tony remarked.

"Earlier than you think", Ziva returned, striking him as oddly at ease, "I was at the market already and took a stroll along the beach after my morning run."

"Wow…", Tony was a little taken aback, "You're like the army. You get more done before eight than most people do all day."

"Considering I really _was_ in the army here…"

"Weird reference, I get it", Tony rebuffed, a grin springing to his face, "Need any manly help?" He nodded towards the abundance of pots and pans and edibles strewn out all over the counter.

Ziva pursed her lips slightly. "Actually, I am trying an old recipe for breakfast…"

"I guess that means no…in a dangerously evasive kind of way."

"I already sent my father to the dining room to wait as well."

"And I gotta go out there too?", Tony whined.

Ziva could feel Tony's defensives go up and tried warding them off by putting her hands on his chest ever so softly. "I know it's a lot to-"

"No, it's okay, really", Tony declared sardonically, "I mean, it's not like we have nothing to say to each other and would rather _not_ see each other until at least _after_ the third cup of coffee and an Advil in with the second glass of Bourbon, which…_of course_…would tend to indicate that we quite simply don't like each other's guts. Thankfully, though, that's _so_ not the case."

Ziva's mouth opened but closed again as she found Tony's look of defiantly raised eyebrows too compelling at half past eight in the morning to stay serious. The edges of her mouth twitching amusedly, she reasoned, "You pursue murderers and psychopaths on a daily basis. You will get through ten minutes alone in a room with my father."

He tried himself at his best puppy-eyes-look. "I take two murdering psychopaths for a hall pass?"

Ziva merely scowled.

"Okay, okay", Tony conceded, "But you go get out the measuring tape, 'cause if I come back shorter you'll be cutting up my pants, woman!"

He shuffled across the room to her chuckle.

When Tony pushed through the swing doors he was met by the dining room, one of the few rooms that hadn't been part of Eli's tour. Along the sides of the room there were long, wooden-carved tables, covered by glossy white cloth. The sun was illuminating its full length through big glass windows on either side of the room. Beside the door to the kitchen there was a big fireplace, the specks of ash inside of which telling the stories of past dinners. A long table was taking up its center, framed by eight matching chairs. In the one on the far side of the room Eli was currently residing, his face mostly covered by the Hebrew paper he was holding up in front of him. A big pile of newspapers was resting on a small side table right next to him.

"If you wish I can leave and pretend to have an important business call to make. In that case, you will find an American paper in that pile to reduce your waiting time. Otherwise we can sit here in silence or exchange empty pleasantries. Either way is fine by me", Eli stated matter-of-factly, not once raising his eyes to meet Tony's.

"Good morning to you too."

Eli smacked his lips and raised his eyebrows, setting his forehead in perfectly curious wrinkles. "Empty pleasantries it is then."

Tony scoffed and sat down right across from Eli on the other end of the table. "You don't usually eat breakfast, do you?"

"I do not?", Eli retorted, turning his paper around.

"You don't look it."

"And why is that?"

Tony's lips formed a small smile. "Even though this feels like a pretty darn expensive plush carpet you have here, that table beside you looks like heavy hard-wood and still hasn't left the slightest mark in it nor anywhere else in this room. Which means it was put there only recently to accommodate that stack of papers you read every day. And how do I know _that_, you ask? Well, judging by the different countries they're from, you must've subscribed to them or worked out some kind of delivery arrangement. Which seems to be a little much for the course of a day, even for you. Since I came in you checked your wrist watch at least three times - _four_ if you count the one time you read something in the lower left corner of your paper and I bet you checked the time then too. Want me to go on?"

A chuckle escaped Eli's throat. "I usually only drink coffee before leaving for the office", he relayed, throwing his head far enough back to eye Tony with a tad of amusement.

"What's different?"

"Ziva. And the children."

Tony nodded. Of course, he wouldn't be a part of the reasons, but he still felt himself appreciate a hint of good humor in Eli's voice - a kind of humor Tony usually found himself fend off as derision. Before Tony could utter another word, however, the swing doors swooshed open and in came Ziva, followed closely by both Tali and David. David looked awake enough, skipping from one side of the room to the other to deliver his morning-hugs, and eventually settled down in a chair. Tali on the other hand was…well, Tali. She was tailing Ziva, who was helping the maid dish up their breakfast.

Tony immediately started loading up his plate, helping David to do so as well. Eli, in serene contrast, scanned the table before his eyes landed squarely on the most prominent dish. "À la Eliana?", he inquired.

Ziva, in the middle of helping a drowsy Tali climb her chair, looked up at the sound of her late mother's name spoken in her father's voice. A rare occurrence, very rare. "Yes", she affirmed softly, taking the seat next to Tali.

No more words were uttered from then on except for the odd comment or compliment. Half an hour into breakfast, however, a side-door was carefully opened and a woman stepped in, ever so cautiously. She waited to be noticed and Eli was the first to notice her.

"Ah, Baila, come in", he nodded towards her.

"Boker tov", she greeted the other breakfast attendants, whose eyes had immediately shot up at her. Her dark curls were pulled back in a loose ponytail.

"My new assistant, Baila Eshel."

"Not exactly new", she quipped, her voice a little too quiet to arouse the chuckles that comment might have initiated otherwise.

"Yes, well… As I am becoming more and more of a symbolic figurehead taken out of the closet for parades and swearing-in ceremonies", Eli asserted scornfully, "bodyguards are getting exchanged for assistants."

He put on his glasses and Baila placed a few documents in front of him, which he signed wordlessly. Just as soon as she had come in, she was gone again and they continued eating breakfast, finalizing their plans for the day ahead.

* * *

><p>After they had been spending most of their vacation travelling to parts of Israel in the immediate vicinity of Haifa, they had finally decided to enjoy the most sun-drenched day so far close-quarters. Earlier in the day they had gone down to the beach. There, Tony and Ziva had discovered that they had two very different children - when it came to their enthusiasm for water. Even though they had had both kids attend swim classes early on, Tali had never enjoyed them just as much as David had. And the pattern had repeated itself now: Tali had clung to Ziva, tightening her grip on her mother each time the water so much as patted her feet. So, Tony and Ziva had exchanged supervision since Tony could very much relate to his daughter's aversion against water and swimming. And while David and Ziva took to the sea, Tony and Tali built sand castles on top of Tony's legs (Tali's idea, mind).<p>

In the afternoon they decided to get to know the city, visiting the _Bahá'í World Centre_ with its golden-domed _Shrine of the Báb_. Later they swapped cultural learning for a more holistic approach, strolling through Haifa's tiers and neighborhoods. Especially David seemed enthralled by the bustle around him. While Tali seemed caught up in her own delight, dragging them around at her eyes' desire and pointing out one object of deep fascination after the other, David seemed more interested in the people, the goings-on, the odd familiarity of it all.

"David", Ziva called over to him for what already seemed like the tenth time that day. While the three of them had kept going, David had remained rooted to the pavement beneath him - again.

He turned around upon his mother's voice and found her frowning. He instantly ran up to her. "Sorry…"

"There are so many people around, tateleh. You have to stay close or you will lose track of us", she explained calmly.

David nodded and took a hold of her outstretched hand. A few minutes later, however, a few kids juggling a ball between them on the other side of the street caught his attention. For some time he was held on track by the familiar tug on his hand as Ziva walked on. When Ziva let go for a moment to look for her wallet, though, David felt free to take a few steps towards the street, towards the subjects of his present fascination. A few steps with integrated pauses turned into full-fledged walking after a little while.

All of a sudden there was no answer when Ziva asked David's opinion on their purchase: He wasn't there anymore. She whirled around and found her eight-year-old son leisurely walking towards the street separating him from the kids with the ball. Her heart started ravaging against her ribcage. To her left a car was slowly approaching.

And suddenly all that Ziva could see were images flaring in front of her eyes: images of a car slowly creeping down a road intercepting two sides of a market; images of red; images of the front window rolling down, revealing a face hidden beneath a ski mask; images of an AK-47; images of the muzzle flash; images of a man and a small child in a puddle of their own blood. Within the flashes of her memories Ziva lunged forward and roughly pulled her son away from the street. Meanwhile the car drove idly by without posing a threat to anyone.

Ziva grabbed David by his shoulders, immediately jerking him from the shock of what had just happened. "I told you to stay close", she reproached him sternly, her voice more of a growl than he had ever heard before, "Never do anything like that again. Is that clear?"

David's eyes were wide, he looked positively frightened. Nevertheless, he feebly nodded his head. Then he backed out of her grip and was instantly met with his father's legs. Tony, with Tali in his arms, had stepped up to them, still not quite able to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He put an arm around his son.

As the adrenalin wore off, Ziva could finally process the look on her son's face. She could see shock, fear even. _Of her?_ When she looked up she saw some of that shock in Tony's and Tali's eyes as well. Tony's emeralds, however, were doing something else as well: They were accusing her, maybe she was imagining it, but they were.

"Ziva-"

"I will meet you at home", she brushed him off immediately, turned and walked away, leaving all three of them with matching looks of bewilderment.

* * *

><p>Over an hour later Eli found Ziva in the garden, leaning against the rough plaster of the mansion. Her hands were buried inside her pockets and she was looking out into the city and the setting sun over the waves of the sea. He approached her slowly. For some time he just stood there, a little behind her and followed her gaze, finding it somewhat calming still.<p>

"What happened?", he inquired eventually, his voice even and low.

"Why must anything have happened at all?", Ziva retorted quickly, a little low on breath.

Eli cleared his throat. "Because you always came here to hide when you had done something."

"And you always found me…"

"It is right underneath the window to my study, you know."

"Maybe that _is_ why I hid here in the first place…", Ziva returned softly.

He smiled faintly. "Now tell me… What is going on?"

A short pause lingered for a moment and Ziva looked down. "I yelled at my son today."

"Yes…"

She opened her mouth but again no sound came. Instead, she took her hands out of her pockets and, in a habit she had, strangely, cultivated ever since her capture in Somalia, started playing with them. "He ran off even though I told him not to. I just lost it and yelled at him…without a reason."

Eli threw his head back. "You had your reasons."

"No", Ziva shot back, finally turning around to meet his eyes. She cocked her head to the side, her lips in a thin line, and shook her head slightly. "No", she repeated, "I had no genuine reason to."

"Yes, you had your reasons", Eli insisted adamantly, "Children must listen, Ziva."

"Because that has worked so well for you, yes?", Ziva retorted derisively.

"David is not you. And you are not me."

"It is not only about me, father", she attested firmly, "What about Ari? What about Tali? Punishing us never did any good to _any_one."

Eli huffed, certainly not understanding why he was suddenly on the spot here. "I had no other choice, Ziva. I had three children to take care of after your mother-"

"Please", Ziva cut in, her defenses building up, "I was alone too while Tony was gone and I have never _once_-"

"Our world does not accommodate foolishness, Ziva."

"So now loving your children, not wanting to terrify them is foolish to you?"

His eyebrows shot up. "I see, you have made it very easy for yourself", he conceded calmly.

"Do not do this", Ziva snapped, "Do not turn this around and make this about me disappointing you."

"You dis-", he started but broke off. His jaw clenched and he took a step forward, growling, "_Every_ day was a fight. Every day all of you had to _fight_. I could have never forgiven myself if I had allowed for you to enter that fight unprepared."

For a moment she held his stare, the menacing look of sapphire blue she had grown up to fear and had caved under more often than she cared to admit. Then she twitched her head upright. Defiantly, she ended their conversation, "Excuse me, I have to find my son."

* * *

><p>Ziva had returned to the mansion much later than Tony and the kids had. She had taken more than three detours, thinking, and had eventually found herself right where she had always gone to think during her days in Haifa - right where Eli would always find her and still, it had never even occurred to her to choose a different place. And now, in dire fact, she knew exactly where David would be as well: where he always went to think or to sulk.<p>

When she stood in front of the door to David's designated room, she felt herself hesitate. She had always vowed to be a different kind of parent. She had always been so adamant not be like her own father. Today, however, seeing the look on David's face - she had never felt more like a complete failure as a mother. And failure was one of life's hardest lessons to learn.

Eventually, however, she had to face up to it. She knocked softly and turned the knob, opening the door only a crack. "May I come in?", she asked into thin air.

No answer.

When she opened the door further, she found David sitting at the desk by the window with his back turned towards her. His head was buried in what seemed to be another one of his drawings. Drawing really was his leeway for dealing with his emotions - and he was getting good at it, too.

Ziva stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. The eight-year-old didn't budge. "I am very sorry, tateleh", she stated simply. Still, there wasn't any reaction. Ziva took a few steps towards her son. "David-"

"That wasn't our look", he spoke up suddenly.

"Pardon?"

"That wasn't how you look at me or Tali", he stated colorlessly, turning around to glare at her.

His green eyes, so much like Tony's, were burning into her with a mixture of something she couldn't quite pinpoint. She could only stand there and stare into his eyes, unable to say anything. She had a pretty good idea what he was talking about. After all, she might have seen that look more than once on Eli's face growing up.

"The way you looked today you look like when you talk about bad guys. Sometimes it's how you look at Saba Eli. That time when you talked to him on the computer and we came in…you looked at him like that. But that's not how you look at me."

He wanted to appear strong and mature, but Ziva could deduce from the sound of his voice that he was anything but. His words, however, and his ability to assess the people around him the way he did were way beyond his age. She crouched down in front of him, searching his eyes.

"I know and I am sorry", Ziva admitted softly, "I am very sorry that I yelled at you today."

He kept looking at her probingly. "You can be really scary, mommy."

Her insides churned upon his words. "I never wanted to scare you, neshomeleh."

David sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder with the heaviness of innocence. "I know…"

"Accept my apology?", Ziva asked, trying herself at a smile.

David nodded.

Ziva leaned up and planted a kiss against his forehead. "Thank you."

"So, why did you?"

"Because I was scared for you, David. You are not supposed to run off like that, it is not safe…and I only want to keep you safe. Do you understand that?"

He nodded dutifully. "So…I was really bad?", he inquired a little hesitantly.

Ziva smiled a little, hating that she had made her son feel as if he had to blame himself like that. "Yes, you should have listened to me. But it was still wrong of me to yell at you like that. It is not okay to yell at someone, especially when you have no reason to."

"I guess that's okay, mom", he relented, shrugging, "Sometimes I yell and don't know why either."

Ziva chuckled. It was a little more complicated than that, she knew, but David's forgiveness alone could soothe the stinging feeling in the pit of her stomach. She realized that she was probably blowing this a little out of proportion, but she had been terrified of her father most of her life. She had not the slightest intention of being the kind of parent her children were terrified of.

"But I wouldn't have run into the street, you know. 'Cause you always say it's really dangerous. I wouldn't have done that", he defended, sounding accusingly serious.

"I know that", Ziva assured him with a knowing smile, "That is why I am apologizing. I overreacted… Do you know what that means?"

David shook his head.

"It means that when something not-so-bad happens, we make it much worse in our heads. We see much more problems than there really are…or we are much more scared than we should be. And then we _over_react. It means we react much worse than we should", Ziva explained slowly.

"So, you over- overreacted 'cause you were much more scared?", he exemplified.

"Right."

"But you shouldn't have."

"Right again", Ziva smiled.

"So, you make mistakes too?", he inquired quizzically, a hint of doubt in his voice.

Ziva chuckled. "Yes, tateleh. Many mistakes actually."

"Daddy too?"

"Yes, your daddy too."

The eight-year-old looked deep in thought for a moment. "So…you're not always right either?", he deduced slowly.

"Well, neshomeleh…", Ziva sighed good-naturedly, folding her arms in his lap and rolling her eyes up at him, "That is where it gets tricky with grown-ups…and moms and dads especially."

"Why?", he lowered his voice to a whisper.

Ziva beckoned him towards her and he bent down a little. "Moms and dads _always_ think they are right when they tell you things, because we want to keep you safe and do what is right for you and so we have to _think_ it is right."

She watched him process her words, unsure if he would completely understand them - but he usually surprised her with a kind of beyond-his-age maturity. David eventually nodded, urging her on.

"So, we can think of a lot of good reasons why you should or should not do certain things", she continued evenly, "Today, for example, I told you to stay close because the streets can be dangerous or because you could have gotten lost."

"But sometimes you aren't right."

"_Everybody_ is wrong sometimes. Moms and dads are not any different. We all make mistakes, but then we have to apologize and try to make it right", Ziva explained, "I realized I made a mistake yelling at you today, so I came here to apologize and I will try not to let it happen…ever again."

David nodded, understanding the last part. With the right-wrong-thing he had a little trouble, though. "So, how do I know when you're right and when not?", he posed inquisitively.

"You have to trust us on some things, David. You have to trust us that we have a good reason for things", Ziva relayed sweetly, "And now that you're becoming a big boy, you will have different reasons for doing things as well. And that's why it is so important to listen to each other and to understand the reasons we have for doing things."

David mulled this over in his head, getting a faraway look in his eyes. Then he focused back on his mother. "I ran off 'cause I liked looking at the other kids throwing the ball."

"Yes…"

"You didn't want me to run off, but I still wanted to watch them."

"So, you think you could have asked me to go with you to watch them?", Ziva asked with a smile, her eyebrows rising along.

"I guess…"

"Why don't we make a little deal?"

"What kinda deal?"

"How about you promise not to run off like that again and I promise not to overreact _ever_ again?"

That lesson learned came at quite the cost. Ziva knew it was, quite simply, a futile deal. She couldn't promise she would never again in her son's life overreact. Sometimes it was simply part of a mother's job-description to overreact - and gloriously so. However, when David nodded willingly and eventually put his arms around her, she knew that she really was trying her hardest not to turn out a parent like her father - but that their motives might as well have been quite similar nonetheless.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile on the other side of the corridor Tony was spending quality-time with his daughter. Three years ago, when he had returned to his old post at NCIS, Tony had launched a daddy-offensive and had since evolved into Tali's favorite playmate - and Tali, no doubt about that, had evolved into a real daddy's-girl. Just as everybody around him had predicted, Tali was so much like her father that they were meta-connected in a way.<p>

Tony was sitting on the floor, surrounded by all the stuffed animals they had managed to smuggle into Israel and all sorts of props Eli had been foresightful enough to furnish his granddaughter's part-time room with - not the only carefully planted indicator that he wanted them to make their trip an annual feat. A yellow feather boa was slung around Tony's neck and his shirt had been plastered with stickers and buttons. In front of him stood a small table with all sorts of accessories like pins, hair clips, scrunchies and glitter in all colors, sizes and variants. Knowing that Ziva liked his hair a little longer, he had kept the style he had cultivated back in Spain. So now, his hair offered his daughter the perfect playground for administrating her hairdressing skills.

The five-year-old paced between the back of Tony's head and his outstretched arm as he kept handing her all sorts of stylistic ornaments. In fact, he really was starting to feel like a Christmas tree. More importantly, however, he knew the pensive look on his daughter's face. Her lips were pressed together in a thin line and her eyebrows hovered deeply over her amber eyes. He knew it was more than concentration on her fatherly piece of art. He refrained from saying anything, though, knowing that she would say something when she was ready.

Suddenly, he was proven right when the little girl heaved a deep sigh and stated evenly, "Mommy yell'd at Deed today."

_Ah, that._ Tony stopped himself short of nodding his head and consequently screwing up his daughter's work. Instead, he explained quickly, "That's because he ran off and your mom was really scared for him."

"But mommy never gets scawed, she's da ninja", Tali exclaimed defiantly.

"Well, even your ninja-mommy can get scared, 'cause being your mommy and daddy that we are…we worry about you _all_ the time."

"Sounds no fun", Tali declared with a frown.

"You say it, girl."

Tony couldn't hold back a chuckle, but was quickly reminded of the no-moving-policy they had established half an hour ago by Tali's glare. The little girl still looked direly preoccupied, though. A few minutes later, she continued quietly, "But there was nothing there."

Yes, well, that's what bothered Tony as well. He could understand why Ziva had been upset, knowing that even the most patient parent could snap upon the eighteenth admonition. But other than David not listening to her, nothing else had really happened. Tony doubted that their son, prone to extreme caution, would have run into the oncoming car, which - on top of that - had been going quite slowly anyway. Of course, he could understand the sheer terror of knowing that _anything_ at all could have happened. Still, nothing of the above warranted the kind of freak-out Ziva had had.

Knowing right well that he couldn't voice all those doubts to his five-year-old daughter, Tony opted for the more educational route. "Sometimes, princess, we are afraid of things that aren't really there…like monsters under the bed and stuff like that. Sometimes we're scared of things that _could_ be. Understand what I'm saying?"

Tali nodded her head, standing in front of her father with the most adorably engrossed expression on her face.

"And as your mommy and daddy we gotta think of _all_ the things that could happen to you and your brother, so we can keep you out of trouble", he continued slowly, eliciting a smile on her face when he punctuated her respective pronoun with a tap on her nose, "It's our job to keep you safe."

"That's why you and mommy catch bad guys", the five-year-old asserted proudly.

"That's right, princess", Tony grinned, "Your mommy and I make you and your brother _extra_ safe."

Satisfied with her father's explanation of her small universe, she returned to the task at hand and applied the finishing touches to his hair. Tony couldn't help it, but her pulling and stretching had him more and more anxious about the result. Tali eventually proclaimed him finished and waddled over to her bedside table, where she had put the mirror she had asked Tony to fetch from Ziva's dresser. Tony braced himself not to dim her enthusiastically bright grin with the shock he felt coming on. Forcing an eager smile, he took the mirror from her. Inspecting his hair with the reflective surface from temple to temple, he was stunned into momentary speechlessness by the amount of plastic objects in his hair and the glitter covering only the small part at the back of his head Tali could reach.

Before he could utter a word, however, Ziva took that moment of stunned silence to walk in. Holding back a chuckle and merely putting on a smile, she quipped, "Now, you do look a little like Ed Wood." She remembered the movie from one of their many cinematic evenings.

Tony huffed. "Well, don't be surprised when your sweaters are stretched out from now on."

Tali suddenly lost interest in her newly created hairstyle and trudged over to Ziva. She took a stand in front of her mother, her face set in utter seriousness. "You always say yellin' 's really bad and today you yell'd at Deed, mommy", she reprimanded, wiggling her index finger.

"I already apologized to your brother and he forgave me", Ziva replied earnestly, crouching down to her daughter's level and taking her hand in hers.

"'s still not nice, you know."

"I know."

"But daddy s'plained it to me and it's okay now."

"Thank you, tateleh."

Smiling, Ziva leaned forward and planted a kiss on her daughter's nose, causing the little girl to giggle. "Actually, I came in here to tell you that your Saba Eli has a surprise for you."

Tali's face lit up. "Really?"

"Really", Ziva chuckled, "He is waiting outside."

"Cool", the little girl let go of Ziva's hand and sprinted off into the direction of the door.

"Are you okay finding it on your own?", Ziva called out quickly.

Tali stopped hard in her tracks and turned around to face her mother. The little girl shook her head, sighing dramatically, "I'm _five_, mommy."

Before Ziva could answer with a smile, the five-year-old had already vanished down the corridor. With their daughter and center of attention gone, they remained in silence for a while, not really looking at each other. Tony eventually broke and voiced the first thought on his mind, "You okay?"

Ziva nodded, still not looking at him. When she finally did and saw the look of concern in his eyes, it was even harder for her. "I am sorry. I'm sorry I made such a scene and I'm sorry I just left you there", she admitted quietly.

"Don't be", he waved off with a small smile, "You yelled at our son. Worse things have happened."

"I do not yell, Tony. I do not seize his shoulders and yell at him for running off", she argued forcefully, feeling the obscure need for him to blame her or be angry with her.

"He could have run into the street-"

"He would not have."

"He could have."

"That is not why-" But she broke off, shaking her head a little.

"Then why?"

Ziva sighed and got up, sitting down on the edge of Tali's bed instead. Tony followed her, taking the seat next to her and giving her the probing look she always had a hard time withstanding. "I just saw the car going so slow and…snapped", she stated simply.

"Because slow cars particularly freak you out? More than fast ones?"

She glared at him.

"What? You're not very forthcoming with information here", he defended.

"I don't know _what_ I thought. I was never afraid David would run _into_ the car… I- I thought they might-" Once again she stopped. It sounded so incredibly stupid now. Was she delusional?

"They might what, Ziva?", Tony pressed on.

She looked into his eyes and he stared back. Her mouth opened and closed. "Shoot."

"You thought they might shoot from the car?", he repeated incredulously.

"Isn't that what I just said?" Her voice grew a little agitated, feeling stupid enough herself she didn't need him to rub it in.

"Hey, I'm not making fun of you, okay? I'm just trying to wrap my mind around this", he countered calmly, searching her eyes for the truth, "That's never happened back in Washington, has it?"

She turned away. "Washington is not where I saw people get shot in a drive-by. I don't know… Being here brings back so many memories-"

"It's okay."

"But I-"

"It's okay", Tony stressed, taking hold of her hand, "I know it's not easy for you. And today, well… No sweat, no harm. David got over it, you get over it."

"I never yelled at either of them before. Not like that, not without a reason…"

"See it as a trial run", Tony quipped, falling back onto the bed and taking her along with him, "Come puberty, they'll be shocked when you _don't_ yell at them."

She chuckled, putting her head on his shoulder while he started drawing circles on her upper arm. "You mean they will not stay little forever?"

"As much as I'd love to Peter Pan it with you, but no", he leaned down to kiss her, "They won't."

"Ah", she sighed, falling back onto his shoulder, "I cannot wait."

* * *

><p>Ziva closed the book she had been reading for about an hour. When she looked down, however, Tali was still looking up at her with the same expectant glisten in her big brown eyes. Ziva had expected something like this. The little girl was hyped up on the events of that day: a late-night boat-tour to be exact. She was tired, no doubt about that, she just didn't know it.<p>

"One more?", the little girl asked sweetly from where she was snuggled into Ziva's side. Shim was lying on top of them.

"We read all the stories in this book already, tateleh", Ziva said, "We won't have any stories left for the next days."

"Please, mommy?", Tali smiled, her endearing look very much reminding Ziva of Tony.

"Are you not sleepy at all?", Ziva couldn't help but chuckle.

Tali shook her head.

Ziva sighed. It had taken her a lot of willpower to learn how to persevere whenever Tony gave her that look - with his head tilted to the side, that endearing smile on his face and his eyes full of innocent entreaty. But with Tali and David it was even harder. She bent over the edge of the bed and sifted through the bag beside her. When she settled back against the headboard of Tali's guest bed, she had a different book in hand.

Tali's face immediately erupted in a big grin. "One more chapter and then you go to sleep", Ziva announced before opening it.

Tali nodded quickly and then put her head back on Ziva's shoulder, following the words she could not yet fully read with her eyes while Ziva read another story. By the time she had finished that one, however, Tali had finally succumbed to sleep. Ziva carefully wriggled out of her daughter's grasp and rearranged the blanket around the little girl. She dropped a kiss on her forehead before she turned to leave.

On her way out she left the door to the guestroom slightly ajar and switched on the light in the hallway. Before Tony and she had announced bedtime on their first day in Haifa, they had given Tali an orientation-tour, pacing off the beeline from her room to her parents' room, and Ziva had promised to leave the hallway light on in lack of her fairy lamp - just in case. They both knew that in a strange room surrounded by a strange house Tali would spend more nights in their bed than in her own. At home in Washington Tali's middle-of-the-night-ventures had become quite infrequent in the last couple of years, though.

When Ziva turned around, however, she was startled by Eli standing next to the door. Ziva's eyebrows shot up. Since their little disagreement on their disparate parenting styles, father and daughter had hardly exchanged a word.

"Some people say that when we become parents our children hold up mirrors for us to see ourselves in", he mused.

"You want to say that I was just like Tali at bedtime", Ziva clarified quietly.

"Yes, well…", Eli cleared his throat, "I remember your mother reading you story after story after story… That _your_ daughter remained this calm and actually fell asleep - well, I believe that is all Tony then."

With that and a small smirk he stepped around her and continued down the hall towards his study. "Layla tov, Ziva."

"Layla tov", Ziva returned, shaking her head with a small smile.

* * *

><p>Ziva and the kids spent the last three days in Haifa, where Eli took up an unusual routine of entertaining them with trips and games. At least to Ziva it seemed unusual, David and Tali were having a blast. One evening he even 'kidnapped' them and took them out for another special surprise - complete with a fair and ice cream and all sorts of cool things they would be telling the stories of for days to come. That had given Ziva some time to hole up in the library and indulge in her favorite leisure activity. In the meantime, Tony had gone to Tel Aviv to attend a conference on Middle Eastern politics as a representative for NCIS. His return to Haifa also marked the end of their vacation. During goodbyes, however, they had promised both kids - and even Eli's expectant gaze - that they would return and that Eli was always welcome to visit.<p>

Tony and the kids were already in the car, when it was Ziva's turn to say goodbye. She had expected some awkwardness in it, but once again Eli came prepared. He kissed her cheek and presented her with a flat, rectangular object wrapped up in newspaper.

"What-"

"Open it on the plane", Eli requested quietly.

She looked at him in surprise, but let it be. "Goodbye, Abba."

"Goodbye, Ziva."

With that he turned and left. Ziva got into the car and stored the present in her bag. She followed his request, opening it only after take-off. The night in the Israeli sky was just about to merge into another sun-lit morning, when Ziva removed the paper and revealed the picture she and Tony had looked at in Eliana's study. Its frame was freshly polished and the glass had been exchanged - four smiling faces as good as new.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thank you very much<strong> for your reviews, thoughts and interest. Keep motivation high, keep **reviewing!**_


	4. In moments we cherish

**BACK** with an update. Thank you very much for your reviews and thoughts. I just wanted you to know that I have definite plans for this story and that the muse pulled me in, just that I have terribly little time on my hands and way too many items on my incredibly vindictive _To-Do-List_. I guess, that's my way of apologizing for irregular updates - _Now a' is done_ came together much quicker. Be that as it may, your reviews are a motivational boost I wholeheartedly appreciate and please, do **keep it going!**

_****answering****_

**For clarification:** The package Ziva opened at the end of last chapter was the picture Tony and she had talked about in the 2nd-chapter-scene in Eliana's long-locked study. It is a Haifa-garden-shot with Eliana, Tali (Ziva's sister), Ari and Ziva - taken by Eli.

**ChEmMiE:** As far as the children's (or David's) 'understanding' of Ziva's past goes - I will definitely explore this matter further down the storyline, because I find the complexity of it very much intriguing. And concerning the possibility of physical punishment in Ziva's past...well, it's part of that complexity and of the many dimensions of the Eli-Ziva-relationship. It bears so many areas of tension - and I wouldn't want to clear them away by giving you a definite answer here :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 4 In moments we cherish<strong>

_**Sunday, March 14th 2021**_

With a guttural moan Ziva shot upright in her bed in Washington. She squeezed out a breath and placed a hand against her sweaty forehead.

"You're awake", Tony commented quietly from his side of the bed.

It took Ziva a moment for her eyes to gain focus in the middle of the darkness. She turned to her right and found Tony's eyes rolled up at her, both hands tucked under his head for support.

"Did I-", Ziva's mouth felt dry, "Did I wake you?"

"Nah…", Tony retorted, "Actually, you kinda slapped me awake a few minutes ago."

"I'm sorry", she murmured, diving down the side of the bed to retrieve her robe.

"You goin' out?"

"Water."

"Wait." Tony finally lifted himself up enough to grab her upper arm just as she was about to get out of bed. "Another nightmare?"

For a moment she kept her head turned away. When she answered, though, he could see her outlines against the frail light of something somewhere outside their bedroom window. "Yes…", she answered.

Tony knew that kind of _'yes'_. It was the one where she put so much emphasis on the _'e'_ there was hardly any voice left for the _'s'_ to follow. It was but an exhalation of surplus breath. He knew the expression of hers matching that _'yes'_ as well: determined eyes with the hint of insecure hesitation. It seemed her mind was so preoccupied it only concentrated on the _'e'_ and the _'s'_ showed just how much she was really thinking of something else.

Tony simply nodded and let go of her, watching her leave the room without another word.

He knew there wasn't a thing he could say. Sometimes it was enough to hold her. Sometimes it wasn't. She had always had nightmares. In the beginning of their relationship, when she had finally felt safe enough to share a bed, he'd been scared out of his mind. The way her face contorted in utter pain when he watched her toss and turn - it was unlike anything else he'd ever seen on a person's face. It wasn't for Ziva to show her pain, but every time she awoke from a nightmare it was there and he could see it. The nightmares were infrequent, not tied to a particular date or event. She didn't know what triggered them or how it might just have been her subconscious' cruel sense of humor. For some reason, however, Tony couldn't shake the impression that Israel had intensified them noticeably.

Promising himself that he would go after her in a few minutes' time, Tony drifted back to sleep. In the meantime Ziva was leaning against the sink downstairs, a glass of water in her hand. She was staring into the darkness of their apartment. The table was still littered with the remnants of the game they had played the night before. Since they had returned from Israel a bout of jetlag had gripped both Tali and David, keeping them awake at ungodly hours and striking them down at the oddest of times. A small smile crept onto Ziva's face. David and Tali. Tali and David. Why couldn't she just dream about them? They were what was good in her life. And Tony. Why couldn't she dream about him? He would like that - heck, he would wholeheartedly endorse that. But no. She had to dream about everything else, all the bad she had done and all the bad that had been done unto her.

She couldn't go back upstairs. She didn't want to. She didn't want to go back to sleep. As much as the thought of crawling into Tony's arms appealed to her, she couldn't. Instead she placed the glass on the counter and soon found herself put in one of the DVDs they stored on a shelf above the TV. A place of downright honor, she liked to think. Pressing the _'mute'_-button on her way to the couch, she settled down between the cushions, pulling her feet up.

It was the video of David's first steps. Naturally, they hadn't had the camera ready for their little boy's _first_ first steps as he had taken those in the middle of the bullpen: After spending a day with his Uncle McGee and Auntie Abby, he had been so excited to see his parents again that crawling had simply appeared too slow a locomotive action. Afterwards, Tony had been determined to catch his son follow up that remarkable feat, practically filming every moment of their lives for a week.

Ziva didn't need to hear the voices, she knew all those videos by heart. She spent more time watching them than anybody else did, watching them whenever she couldn't sleep. When she saw her son laughing and clapping his hands at the man behind the camera, she knew exactly why. She didn't know what would have happened to her had she never found Tony, had she never had their children. A scoff escaped her lips at the mere thought of it. She probably would have ended up like all the corpses she kept seeing in her nightmares.

Suddenly, the screen went red with a title card, reading _'David's 1st Christmas'_ in neat golden letters. Ziva smiled. A year ago, as a Christmas present, McGee had stolen all their videos - some of them not even digital yet for Tony had insisted on old-fashioned footage in the beginning - digitalized, compiled and arranged them, complete with descriptions, title cards and the odd musical interplay. Ziva was wholeheartedly caught up in the moment of Tony and her holding mistletoe over their five-and-a-half-month-old baby boy, each taking one of his cheeks to plant a kiss on. She wasn't caught up enough, however, _not_ to notice the padding of little feet across the wooden floor. She turned just in time to see Tali rub her tired eyes with her fist. The little girl was clad in her yellow pajamas and a little wobbly on her drowsy feet.

When she arrived at the couch, she let her upper body collapse onto it right next to Ziva, her head turned sideways so that she could eye her mother through heavy lidded ambers.

"If you are sleepy, you should be in bed, tateleh", Ziva whispered with a smile, softly caressing the five-year-old's wayward curls.

Tali merely sighed. "Watcha doin'?"

"You", Ziva answered, pointing towards the screen. The video was currently showing David's second birthday.

"That's no me, that's Deed", Tali asserted, a little disappointed not to be able to look at herself.

"Well, we shall have to wait then, tateleh." Ziva lifted her up on the couch and the little girl instantly crawled into her mother's lap and got comfortable, using Ziva's torso as the perfectly shaped pillow to watch TV with.

"See, that is when we celebrated your Uncle Gibbs' birthday", Ziva narrated.

"_He_ looks mad", Tali commented, scrunching up her nose.

Ziva chuckled. "Yes, that is because he did not know he was getting a party."

"I like parties."

"Uncle Gibbs likes them too", Ziva mused, watching the man in question hide the smile that threatened to break through, "He just does not know it."

Tali and Ziva watched the video for some time in silence. Just when Ziva's past self walked into the frame to hug Gibbs, Tony plopped down on the couch next to them. "There are my two favorite girls", he beamed.

"Daddy", Tali exclaimed, replacing her mother's with Tony's lap at once.

Tony welcomed her by gently poking the little girl's cheek. "That's you in there. Little, teeny-weeny you in your mom's belly."

Tali giggled, turning back to the video. And really, Video-Ziva was just showing off the size of her stomach, rubbing it with evident pride as Video-Tony slung his arms around her from behind and spoke directly into the camera, at which Video-Ziva playfully slapped his hand.

"You've obviously been abusing me ever since", Tony quipped, leaning over to kiss her.

Ziva grinned mischievously. Then she turned her attention to the little girl, who seemed mesmerized by the moving memories onscreen. "You know, tateleh, just a few days later you were born."

"Really?"

Ziva nodded, caressing the little girl's cheek.

"Hey, no party", David's voice popped up.

His pajamas looked tangled and his eyes were half-closed and only half-aware of what was going on. Tony and Ziva couldn't hold back simultaneous chuckles. Ziva opened her arms and the eight-year-old settled down in her lap, sleepily falling back against her.

"We watchin' mem'ries", Tali explained with the hint of profound awe.

"Yes, much awaiting Princess Tali's arrival", Tony put in, smiling at his son.

David turned in Ziva's embrace and together they watched Tony's past self's head talking into the camera before panning down to capture an enthusiastic nod by what appeared to be three-year-old David.

* * *

><p><em>Tony nudged the door open, holding the camera out in front of him so that it would be the first thing to peek into the room. Before it could lay lens on anything except an empty bassinet by the door, however, the screen went white as Tony was shoved aside by an uber-excited David scurrying into the room. When the camera refocused, David had already arrived at the hospital bed, where Ziva was beaming down at him. For a moment the camera zoomed in on her. She looked exhausted, but the smile on her face persisted as she was cradling a tiny baby in her arms.<em>

_The baby was wrapped into a pink blanket, a mat of hair covering its tiny head. The baby girl's eyes were closed as she slept contently in her newly-discovered mother's arms._

_When the camera zoomed out again, it caught Ziva reaching down to ruffle the little boy's hair. Her mouth opened, to which David nodded eagerly. Instantly, Ziva's eyes rose expectantly towards the man behind the camera. There was a definite glimmer of pride in her dark eyes. The camera was then cumbersomely positioned on some object opposite Ziva's bed, showing pieces of Tony's hand, the tiling on the floor, the cloudy sky outside the window and irritated looks on both Ziva's and David's faces._

_When the camera was finally in place to its operator's satisfaction, allowing a clear view of Ziva's hospital bed, Tony went over and lifted David up. Ziva scrambled a little to the side, so that David could comfortably settle down beside her. The little boy looked nervous. After that, Tony cautiously took the baby out of her mother's arms while Ziva pulled her son closer and put an arm around him. She nodded at Tony and he gently placed the baby in David's arms while Ziva instructed him as to how he should best hold his baby sister and carefully supported his arm under little Tali's head with her own._

Watching this, they all fell asleep on the couch, curled up next to each other as the videos of their life together created flickers of memories in the darkness of the living room.

* * *

><p>When Ziva opened the door in answer to Abby's fifth knock, she looked positively disheveled. She was dressed in simple jeans and shirt, which could not be said for Tali. The little girl was still in her pajamas and tiredly clinging to her mother. Ziva quickly ushered their guests inside. Abby was carrying two-and-a-half-year-old Liora and McGee two bags of groceries.<p>

"We woke you up", Abby assessed with a small smile.

"No, we overslept", Ziva explained apologetically, hoisting Tali higher up on her hip, "We fell asleep on the couch and did not hear the alarm. We woke up just half an hour ago."

"Looks like Tali still hasn't", McGee quipped, receiving no reaction from the five-year-old but a small Ziva-like scowl.

"Well, we do not react well to sudden wake-up calls, do we?", Ziva answered, softly caressing Tali's cheek.

"Thank heavens _we_ usually don't sleep at all, so that's no problem", Abby retorted, putting Liora down on the floor. The two-year-old, very familiar with the surroundings of her acquired Aunt Ziva's and Uncle Tony's apartment, instantly set off towards the living room and towards where she knew the box of games and toys was only waiting to be discovered.

"So, why'd you sleep on the couch again?", McGee inquired as they followed Liora further in.

"Long story", Ziva sighed, receiving a knowing smile from both her friends.

"Whose turn is it today anyway?", Abby asked no one in particular while McGee placed the groceries on the counter in the kitchen.

"Ziva's and McSous-Chef's", Tony answered, sauntering down the stairs. "David's awake and getting dressed, possibly finishing in the near future", he added upon Ziva's probing look.

"Paella…in an effort to prove Tony wrong", McGee commented in regard to their weekly luncheon and their rota-system in cooking it.

"Please…", Tony huffed with a certified grin, "I _Pai-Mei'd_ it in Spain. It's my _Five Point Prep Exploding Taste Technique_ against your American-Israeli mishmash." Disregarding their frowns, Tony then turned to Ziva and offered, "Here, give her to me. I'll get the daughter ready, you the food."

Ziva shook her head slightly, a small grin dripping from her lips. She handed Tali to her father, disregarding the onslaught of tired fussing and discontented groans from their charmingly weary daughter. Meanwhile, Abby settled down on the floor with Liora, helping her daughter discover the depth of her cousins' play box. McGee and Ziva retreated to the kitchen and started working on their lunch - with added determination, mind. When Tony returned, he started cleaning away the remnants of last night, laid the table and declared himself the provider of drinks. Tali eventually joined her Aunt and cousin and they started playing a board game David had been thoughtful enough to bring downstairs with him.

"How was Israel?", Abby asked a little later, occupying a chair at the kitchen table while she remained with one eye on the kids and trained the other one on her hubby and best friend busying themselves in the kitchen in well-acquainted routine.

"Kinda fun actually", Tony answered, taking the chair next to Abby.

"That coming from you, Tony?", McGee quipped in the middle of cutting up some onions.

"Eli _is_ a lot different around the kids", Ziva put in from where she was looking for a measuring cup.

"And considering I spent three days cooped up in a conference room with no windows and bad circulation, there really is no comparison", Tony added sardonically.

"Right, the ominous conference…", Abby whispered faux-mysteriously, "How did that go?"

Tony scoffed. "Lotsa talking, less a-facts. I still don't get why Ziva wasn't sent instead anyway."

"Because I will forever be my father's daughter. I'm Ex-Mossad, that combination does not go over well at conferences like these", Ziva countered matter-of-factly.

"Didn't stop Vance from offering you the job of Mid-East Consult", Tony put in defiantly.

"He did?" McGee wasn't exactly surprised, Ziva was an obvious choice. Still, knowing his partner-in-the-field of about five years and friend of way longer, she didn't respond too well to such bureaucratic appendages.

"Yes."

Abby's eyes widened a little. "Instead of-"

"In addition to", Ziva cautioned with a smile, "And I thought we dropped this already."

"The art of war, Zee-vah. I'm calling for reinforcements", Tony retorted.

"I was not aware we were fighting a war." Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"I am. For your future."

"So, why don't you wanna do it?", McGee inquired tentatively after exchanging a knowing look with Abby.

"It would mean more hours and we would have to get a full-time nanny again for the kids."

"It would also mean a lot of extra cash we could use for the new apartment...or house", Tony rebuffed.

Abby and McGee followed their friends' exchange like a curious case of a tennis match.

"Our team is one short as it is."

"So, I'll finally draft that fourth agent Vance's been harassing me about."

"The travelling alone-"

"We'll manage", Tony argued, "You know more about these things than all of us combined."

"Please, Tony. You really do know a lot."

"I know", he said quickly, a smile adorning his face. Ziva couldn't help but respond with a smile as well. "I know you'd love to do it."

"There is more to consider than vague inclinations."

"But it should at least count for something."

For a moment they stopped, simply staring at each other. McGee and Abby were trying to keep up with staring and processing as well. Ziva had stepped closer during their exchange, leaving only half the table between her and Tony. Then she finally blinked. "Have you ever considered that this job could also put me back on the radar of people I have no wish to ever encounter again in my life?", Ziva concluded, her voice quietly steady.

However, before Tony could say anything, their eyes still entwined in a determined stare, Tali came running into the kitchen, skidding to a halt in front of her mother. "Mommy, Deed won't play with us."

"That's because your game is stupid", David countered, hot on his little sister's trail.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

Ziva finally dragged her eyes away from Tony's and concentrated on her bickering children. "David", she cut in warningly before the eight-year-old could continue their eloquent banter.

"She started it", he defended.

"And you'll end it", Tony retorted, getting up from his chair and joining the little family-crisis on hand.

"Now, tell us what is going on", Ziva said, her eyebrows rising, "Using words."

"I- I made up a game to play and- and Deed doesn' wanna play it", Tali clarified, obviously very agitated by the whole situation. Her big brother's rejection in any variation or form was usually more than enough to set off Tali's buttons.

"I don't like it", David declared simply.

"Have you asked Liora what she wants to play?", Ziva inquired with a small frown.

"No…", the little boy said sheepishly.

"But she wants to play what I play. Always", Tali said defiantly.

"Ah, I know what you need", Tony put in, instantly claiming the attention of all three.

"Yeah?"

"Sure. You need a _G.I.R.G_.", he proclaimed with an aura of well-acted mystery.

"What's that?" Tali seemed evidently intrigued.

Tony kneeled down to their level and both kids stepped subconsciously closer. "You really wanna know?"

Both kids nodded their heads.

"Can you _handle_ the truth?" Tony reinforced, channeling Nicholson's Colonel Jessep in the most G-rated way possible.

Both of them nodded even more enthusiastically.

Tony opened his mouth and delayed the first syllable for another two or three suspenseful heartbeats before he finally relayed, "It's a _Game Inspector Referee Guy_."

"What's that?"

"A _Game Inspector Referee Guy_, my little princess, helps you make up a game _all_ of you like."

"Does he play s'well?"

"Yeah, Level 1_ Game Inspector Referee Guys_ usually do."

"So… Where do we find one?", David asked blatantly.

"Well, incidentally, I know one." Tony grinned.

"Really? Who?"

"Me." Tony swiftly padded his chest.

"You're a real _Game Specta Ref'wee Guy_?", Tali inquired suspiciously.

Tony cocked his head to the side and smiled. "Level 1 Gold Star." For a moment Tali's eyes divulged something like deep awe. Then she quickly grabbed Tony's hand. "Be right back", he smiled knowingly at Ziva, letting himself be dragged into the living room by their kids.

"He really does have his moments, doesn't he?", McGee quipped, finally releasing the chuckle he had been holding back for the last ten minutes.

"More than that", Ziva mused with a smile and eventually returned to their lunch preparations.

* * *

><p>After Tony had successfully veered all three children's attention and motivational span to a slightly modified version of Tali's gaming plan, they had gathered round the table to unanimously declare a clean tie between Tony's paella and the Ziva-McGee-version. While the other adults had retreated to the living room for some after-lunch leisure, however, Ziva found herself back in the kitchen. The small crack in the door carried in the voices of kids caught up in make-believe and adults talking quietly along. She was doing the dishes by hand, thinking. Suddenly, the door opened and in came Abby. Ziva turned for just a moment, but she could detect the pensive traces on Abby's otherwise smiling face. She looked like she had come with a definite purpose, but Ziva refrained from questioning it.<p>

"Need any help?", Abby asked, coming over to her.

"Actually, I am almost-", Ziva started, but broke off when she noticed the expectant look in Abby's eyes. Instead, she handed her best friend a rag to dry the last of the dishes with. After a while of comfortable silence Ziva remembered something. "How was your meeting at Tali's preschool?", she inquired casually.

"Great actually", Abby answered at once, a smile springing to her face, "It really helped that you gave them a call in advance, so thanks again for that. I didn't get the feeling they'd be totally cool with us applying so late and all if you hadn't. But, I mean, it wasn't our fault the last preschool kinda sorta forgot to tell us we'd lost our spot."

"But this is a really good school. It is close to the Navy Yard and they handled our little emergencies very well over the years."

"At least Liora has one parent outside the fireline", Abby quipped.

Ziva smiled, but quickly turned her eyes back to the dishes in the sink. Abby knew there was a little bit of knowing guilt in those smiles of Ziva's. She knew that neither Tony nor Ziva would have wanted any other job, but they were also very well aware of the danger they were putting themselves in. They knew of life's ephemeral quality.

"How's Tali holding up with the last days of preschool and all?"

"I do not think she is too aware of them being her last", Ziva said, putting the last of the wet dishes on the counter and drying her hands, "Most of her friends will be going to the same school in the fall, so the transition will not be too hard on her."

Ziva knew they were tiptoeing around what Abby actually wanted to talk about, and she played along for a while longer. Then, suddenly, Abby opened her mouth. "The adoption agency called Friday."

"_The_ adoption agency?"

"Liora's, yeah. Got an appointment for Tuesday."

"What about?"

"They didn't say."

Ziva immediately picked up on the aggravated note in Abby's voice. "It is nothing to worry about, I am sure."

"But why make an appointment then? If it's nothing to worry about, they could have said what they had to say over the phone, couldn't they?"

"I am sure it will be okay, Abby", Ziva repeated, placing a comforting hand on her best friend's arm.

"I mean, it's not like we wanna hide the fact that Liora's adopted from her, you know."

"I know."

"We want her to know and that it's nothing to be ashamed of, that we love her just as much, that she isn't any different. We might lay a little low on how her biological mother died, but…"

"It is going to be okay, you will see", Ziva reiterated softly, turning her friend into a hug.

"You sure 'bout that?"

"I am sure."

And for the time being that was more than enough.

* * *

><p>On the other side of Washington D.C. a man of average build, with dark unruly hair and glasses covering his eyes slipped a key into its designated hole. At the familiar clicking sound he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He was standing on a flight of stairs leading up to an old wooden door, chips of formerly black paint littered the concrete beneath his boots.<p>

"You are sure this is safe?", the man behind him asked. He was a little taller than the other one, his dark hair was heavily streaked with strands of grey and white.

"They have no use for it anymore."

"And you trust her completely?"

"She is a daughter, Arik. An heir. I trust her and so should you", the man on top of the stairs challenged, taking off his glasses.

The man named Arik nodded. "Nuri", he called over to the third, more muscular man who was waiting at the corner of the building.

Hearing his name, Nuri slung his backpack over his shoulder and trudged up the stairs, following the other two men inside and closing the door behind them in the cool darkness of the night.

* * *

><p><strong>Please. Review. Thanks.<strong>


	5. As long as it lasted

I very much **thank** my devoted reviewers! And I'm trying not to take it as an indicator for you losing interest in this story that there were merely two reviews for last chapter. I know that you, the readers, get constantly pestered with **review-requests**, but I think this very author-reader-connection is what makes this site so endearing, right?

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 5 As long as it lasted<strong>

_**Tuesday, March 16****th**** 2021**_

Tony had heard the front door of the apartment click shut like every morning. He heard her creep up the stairs. He heard her put her watch on the table next to their bedroom door. He heard her take the clothes she had put there before leaving for her morning run. Then he heard the door to the bathroom open and close. That's when his eyes fluttered open. He climbed out of bed, quickly shaking the last remnants of sleep from his head. Sporting a small smile he followed her tracks. When he entered the bathroom, the water was already running. Her sweaty clothes were forming a pile on the floor, her work clothes were neatly folded atop a stool next to the window. He added his boxers to the pile and rounded the corner.

He could see the blurs of her body's outlines beyond the shower screen. He gently pulled it aside. She had her back turned towards him. The water was cascading down her shoulders, her dark hair was sticking to her olive skin. She had accrued quite the tan during their vacation. She didn't turn when he pushed the door shut. Instead, she slid her hands through her hair and twisted them around her neck so that her back was now fully bare before him.

He drew closer, a spray of water slowly bedabbling his torso. He gently placed a hand between her shoulder blades, a small smile escaping his lips when she started leaning into his touch. He kissed the curve of her neck before taking a diminutive step back. Ever so softly he positioned the tip of his index on a familiar spot on her back where her spine was most prominent beneath her skin. It was also the endpoint of the longest scar stretching across her back - arching from its lower third, right above the small of her back to the rim of her left shoulder blade. Its faint color was lighter than her olive-toned skin, its smooth surface lacking in creases and yet bulging with a different set of life-marks.

He traced it upwards, diligently, like he had traced every scar across her body - an exploration of her survival, just to become his and receive the caution of love her body so painstakingly deserved. She could feel his caress stop at her shoulder, a familiar spot to them both. She took that moment to turn around and catch his lips with hers. For the first time that morning their bodies actually met, skin to skin.

"David and breakfast", she declared, pulling back with a smile.

He leaned forward again and resumed their kiss for a few heartbeats longer. Her _'r'_ in _'breakfast'_ drove a grin onto his face. Her Israeli accent really was thicker again. He sighed softly. "Tali and her mood then."

She patted his cheek, sending him off into the hot stream of a morning shower with another peck on the lips.

* * *

><p>They treasured and quietly celebrated their moments of intimacy, especially when they were but few and in-between. The moment Ziva had finished getting ready that morning and had left the bathroom with another quick morning-kiss, daily routine started anew: waking David, making breakfast, listening to Tony and Tali argue about the little girl's outfit, eating breakfast alongside her son, quickly fixing Tali's hair against her protests, bidding quick <em>'Have a good day'<em>s to Tony before climbing into separate cars and taking the kids to school while Tony left for the Navy Yard. Said routine would only marginally differ from day to day - barring special circumstances. Sometimes Tony's and her roles were reversed, the kids' never were.

An hour later Ziva entered the bullpen with a tray of three Styrofoam cups. She left her tea with her computer, abandoned her backpack in a corner behind her desk and quickly tugged her badge and ID in the upper drawer with her gun - a gun she had stopped taking home with her early on. As had Tony. They kept spare SIGs in safes at the back of her dresser and on the shelf in the living room for emergency only, but they both couldn't agree with the thought of walking their guns with two small kids around.

She put a second cup on McGee's desk, who was writing out a report on Ian Johnston's sudden appearance, and received a small appreciative smile. Then she spun around and handed the last one to Tony. He was slouching provocatively in his chair, following her with wide emerald eyes and a pen contemplatively tapping his lower lip.

A smile crossed her face. "Yes?"

"You're late", Tony asserted, very light on the end-syllable.

"And you are very observant today." Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"Gibbs would start dipping you in his searing hot coffee for that, right?"

She put the cup down on his desk. "Gibbs might be frightening at times, but he is not a psychotic maniac. And other than that _you_ are not him."

"True…"

"And the reason I am late is because _our_…daughter was very incompliant today and because her teacher informed me that _your_…daughter volunteered for the main part in her preschool's production at the end of term", Ziva explained, waiting for the fireworks to crack behind her partner's eyes.

And they did. Tony instantly tipped upright in his chair. "Really?"

"Yes."

"I'm so helping her practice." His whole expression brightened.

"I thought so."

"How awesome would it be if we had another Shirley Temple on our hands?", he mused loudly, getting up to full height, "Or- or we could do a _Paper Moon_ remake, call it _Paper Mâché Sun_. Then I'll start dating Minka Kelly and she can resent me for it."

"Yes, Tony, you do that."

His eyes narrowed. "You're not taking me seriously."

"What a shock", McGee cut in from beyond his computer frame.

"Looks like someone wired you up all…", Tony wiggled his fingers in the air, "wrong, McGrumble."

McGee scowled. "I'm trying to work here, you know."

"Cue for exit", Tony proclaimed, "Ziva, you're with me. We got some tipster-grilling to do. And McGee-"

"Digging into Ian Johnston's life. One step ahead of ya, boss."

Tony nodded and smiled, skipping off towards the elevators.

Ziva watched him press one of the lower buttons and turned towards McGee. "When is your appointment with the adoption agency?"

He looked up at her. She could practically see thoughts racing through his mind. "Later… At Five."

"If you want, we can take Liora in the meantime. No need to drag her along", Ziva suggested, trying to lighten some of the burdening anxiety she knew he was harboring.

A brief smile formed on his lips. "That'd be great actually. Thanks."

Ziva reached across the desk and placed her hand on top of his. "Everything will turn out okay, you will see."

"Your words in bureaucracy's ear."

She smiled. Nodding, she patted the back of his hand reassuringly before joining Tony in the elevator he had, knowingly, held open for her. One floor later their ways parted as Ziva stepped into the _Observation Room_ and Tony turned into _Interrogation II_. There a man was already waiting, silently tapping the time away on the suspect's side of the table. Just that the man wasn't a suspect. His dark-brown hair messily framed his face. He obviously hadn't bothered to shave either.

"Mr. Johnston…", Tony started, still standing in the doorframe.

He made a point of opening the door as far as possible, showing the width and openness of the corridor before quickly snapping it shut. A folder tugged under his arm he paced off the mirror-side of the room, pausing shortly in front of every object that made the reality of that room - it being an interrogation room and all - blatantly obvious. Johnston's blazing blue eyes followed his every step. Tony took his time to scrape the chair along the smooth tiling of the floor beneath him, then he sat down, placing the file on the table between them. He flipped it open, revealing a neatly typed report.

"Let's see", Tony took in a long breath, "Yesterday you walked in here telling us that you had vital information about a case that's no case yet. Then we send you an agent to take your statement- A very attractive young lady agent by the way. And a memento later you're all _'Now…where was I?'_"

Johnston's hands were folded on top of the table. He tipped his right index against the opposite knuckle. "Other than that I would never use the word _'vital'_…you're correct."

Tony cocked his head to the side. "And why's that?"

"I don't know." The edges of his mouth twitched slightly.

"You're not denying you came here with information?"

"No."

"And then what?"

"Why am I here?"

"Like in general or…"

"No, why am I _in_ here?"

Tony opened his arms. "Interrogation room." He pointed at himself. "Interrogating."

"Am I a suspect?"

"I don't know", Tony retorted colorlessly, "Are you?"

Johnston started shaking his head, quick jerks to the left and right, left and right, left, right. "It's not supposed to be like this."

"What? Chair, chair, table, camera, little red light, mirror, guy across from you with little patience? What's not supposed to be there?"

"I never thought I- I'd end up in a room like this- an interrogation room…like they have on CSI."

"That's 'cause my buddy Anthony Zuiker is catering to the life of the common man."

Johnston looked around, his gaze stopping short at every object Tony had stopped his steps at before - only in reverse. He smacked his lips. His mouth felt dry. Tony could see the black capsules in his eyes dilate. "This cannot be happening to me", he breathed.

Tony screwed his forehead up in deep wrinkles. "You came to us, remember?"

"This is wrong."

"Not-"

"Not like this." His voice grew frantic and he repeated that phrase again and again, quieter. "Not like this."

"Wait a second-"

"You're not married." Johnston's eyes refocused and he placed his hands back on top of the table after they had slipped down in a little bout of short-lived frenzy.

Tony, a little irritated by the sudden change of demeanor, didn't answer right away.

"You're not wearing a ring", Johnston elaborated lightly, "There's never been a ring actually...on the finger, I mean. There might have been the general idea of a ring before, I don't know."

Tony quickly regained his composure. "I could be one of those no-jewelry guys."

"Unlikely", Johnston assessed, "You and Mr. Zegna here strike me as the kinda guy who'd wear his prizes with pride."

Tony quickly glanced down at his new suit. "Is that so?"

"You're defending, you can't even deny it", Johnston mused, his eyebrows rising a little, "So, there _is_ someone."

"Yes, there is. What about it?" Tony slipped on an even deeper scowl, his gleaming green eyes quickly darting over his left shoulder towards the mirror, behind which he knew Ziva was watching their exchange.

"Interesting", the other man cooed, suddenly sounding happily intrigued, "Now, _either_…there is someone in the adjacent room who knows your queen of spades _ooor_…the queen herself is back there."

Tony somehow felt his defenses coming on. "No, she's not."

A knowing smile spread on Johnston's face. "She really is."

"What now? This is how it's gonna be? I'm saying no, you're saying yes. I'm saying yes, you're saying no?", Tony retorted incredulously, "All _Laurel and Hardy_?"

"I bet you'd be fancying yourself Laurel… You're fine playing dumb, but you couldn't bear playing the chubby guy. Am I right?"

Tony merely jerked his head a little to the side.

"Well, if you really wanna know, Agent…"

"DiNozzo."

"DiNozzo… Italian?"

Tony remained silent.

"Italian thrice removed then", Johnston nodded with a small smile, "To be honest, suggesting that the trigger to your barrel is a fellow agent, probably of the same unit and…seeing as you're handling this _Q-and-A_ here, I'm also guessing it's _your_ unit… I would have expected a little more ridicule from you than flat-out denial. Considering all that…it's actually pretty obvious your queen's behind the two-sided mirror."

"Well, you, Mr. Johnston", Tony's voice slumped down to a growl, "strike me as full of crap."

"Yes, that may be so, but you won't let that stop you from flushing away at me." Again, Johnston's mouth twitched in and out of a smile. And it didn't feel mean-spirited to Tony either, it seemed…good-natured, for lack of a better word.

Tony didn't move a muscle.

"I didn't think so."

Tony still didn't move.

"So…" Johnston leaned back, sighing. "You seem like you need to vent. That's okay. You go out, tell someone I'm a whack job… I'll be waiting here for Round 2."

"F.Y.I.", Tony scathed, "This is an interrogation not boxing. Difference being that you're still here and I'm not gnawing on your ear right now."

"Actually, Agent DiNozzo, this is neither. I came to you. I'm free to go."

"Then go."

"Sorry. Can't."

"Why?"

Johnston leaned forward again, holding onto the table. "I'm sure you just had somebody hack into all my personal and overtly private information. We can continue this when you know more."

Tony took a long and extensive look at the man before him. His blue eyes reminded him a lot of a man who could push his buttons with much less wordiness. Tony took the file. "Later."

Johnston nodded, relaxing back in his chair.

Tony opened the door and stepped out, quickly closing it and releasing a much-needed grunt. Ziva was already waiting for him in the corridor. "He's cracked", he asserted at once.

"He knows something, Tony. I can see it", Ziva declared, her eyes darting towards the door behind which Ian Johnston was sitting with information she was absolutely positive he had.

"And I can feel it. Doesn't change the fact that he's completely cracked."

"He is playing us."

"But why would he?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

><p>When they returned to the bullpen McGee's eyes shot up at them with a curious glisten. "And?"<p>

Tony ignored his question while Ziva silently shook her head behind his back. McGee nodded.

"What about him?", Tony growled, taking a stand in front of the plasma by his desk.

"Right…" McGee scrambled up from his chair and joined them, remote in hand. "Did you know he stayed in the overnight cell? I mean willingly stayed?"

Tony scoffed. "Fits the profile of McMurphy-crazy."

With a flick of his finger McGee conjured up the picture of the man staying in _Interrogation II, _clad in Service Dress Blue, his dark-brown hair much shorter and almost invisible beneath the white combination cap. Much unlike his present self the picture showed him clean-shaven, but Tony instantly recognized the crooked smile on his face.

"Lieutenant Ian Johnston", McGee narrated, "He's an IT-specialist, working for the Pentagon's cryptography department in charge mainly for cases relating to the Navy."

"He really is cyber-skilled", Ziva remarked, sifting through the file McGee had handed to her.

"Figures…"

"No seriously, Tony. He did some really amazing stuff. I ran through his commendations. He started cracking algorithms while others were still scribbling formulas on chalk boards. Following 9/11 they put him on special terror-related ops, first in relation to the wars and later on a more general level. Judging by the amount of black bars and one-way linkages he worked like every fourth black op in the last twenty years."

When McGee had finished his reveling, he found Ziva and Tony eyeing him a little strangely. "Breathed battery fumes instead of oxygen, lived on a diet of zeros and ones and drank liquid crystals, didn't he?"

"Not married, no children, no known next of kin. Paid his bills on time, pristine conduct, no criminal record", Ziva said quickly.

"How 'bout some qualitative insight?", Tony suggested, taking the file from Ziva.

Taking the hint, Ziva and McGee darted towards their desks and retrieved their backpacks.

* * *

><p>"Commander Harper?", McGee asked the man behind the desk in an office a little outside the Pentagon's hub.<p>

The man looked up from his papers. They showed him their badges. "Agents David and McGee, NCIS. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions."

"Sure. Take a seat." He offered them two chairs across from him and they sat down, daringly upright. "What's this about?"

"Lieutenant Johnston."

"Ian? He turn up at your place?"

Ziva and McGee shared a quick glance. "What do you mean? Doesn't he work here?"

"He worked here alright, but he resigned a little over a week ago. Without notice. Cleared his desk and hard drive and left." The Commander's voice was evenly calm.

"This did not surprise you?", Ziva inquired.

"Well, if it had been anyone but Ian it would've, but that's Ian we're talking about. It's just him, you know. He stops when he gets bored, I guess."

McGee's eyebrows shot up. "And he can do that? Just like that?"

Harper shuffled in his seat, a small smile tugging at his lips. He folded his hands in front of his body. "Look, to understand Lieutenant Johnston, the first thing to do is get rid of every cliché or stereotyped image you might have of the people working in departments like these."

Ziva's eyes briefly diverted to her partner-in-field and found the scowl she was expecting. "Why is that?", she followed up quickly.

"To be honest, for the most part I don't get what they are doing. I'm just the transmitter here. But Ian...I got. Don't get me wrong, he's brilliant, but he's…unusual. He stuck out, even in a place like this. He's a lady's man, good talker, charming and a hoot all at the same time."

The edges of Ziva's mouth twitched slightly at the description. "You said he was brilliant?"

"Genius. He could have gotten high up the ranks but he really believed in what he was doing here. No one was better and he knew it. He saved the asses of thousands of sailors and Marines over the years. And there came a lot of…you know…_liberties_ with that."

"If he was this good, why didn't anybody try and stop him from leaving?"

"They did and how", Harper affirmed, his eyes widening a little, "That's why I figured he might have gotten an offer from some private corporation or something, you know."

"Knowing what he knows he would have been a very appealing target, no?"

"No one knows who we are…who _they_ are. It's not like they can go around advertising government intel."

"He could have left to sell off to the highest bidder", McGee challenged.

"That's not how Ian ticks", Harper retorted matter-of-factly, "And there is legal work in place to prevent them from doing that…officially."

Ziva nodded her head knowingly.

"He did end up close to home, didn't he? So anyway, why is NCIS interested in Ian Johnston?"

McGee and Ziva quickly exchanged a look. For some reason neither of them felt like the elaborate truth was necessary just now. Ziva took in a small breath and exhaled, "He is a…potential witness."

* * *

><p>Tony's Mustang pulled up in front of the apartment building on West Clark Street. For a few minutes there was no movement at all, then the door on the passenger's side opened. Ziva stepped out into the hazy evening. Immediately, the doors on each side of the car flew open. David slung his backpack over his shoulder, deeply immersed in conversation with Tali, who slipped out from the backseat behind him. On the other side Ziva unbuckled Liora from her booster seat and hoisted the little girl onto her hip.<p>

Her lips moved, to which Liora nodded her head eagerly. Ziva smiled. She grabbed Liora's bag and closed the remaining doors. Tali and David had joined them on the sidewalk and were now obviously talking over each other. Ziva cautioned them with a nod. They set off towards the front door when Tony called out over the roof of his beloved car to make her stop. She turned and shook her head. With that he got back into the car and drove down into the parking garage while Ziva ushered the kids inside.

Ziva was so preoccupied she didn't sense the woman on the corner of the street watching them. The woman had long, grey-streaked hair and was wrapped into a black coat. Her hands were buried deeply in its pockets and her eyes were dead-set on the scene that had just played out in front of her. She had never been this close before.

* * *

><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	6. Holes in Black

_I wish to wholeheartedly __**THANK YOU**__ for__** your reviews **__on the last chapter. I love writing these stories, obviously, but I cannot tell you how much your words mean to me - they are the things that make it easier to sit down at 1 a.m. and write another scene. Your interest and enjoyment is a true reward and it's good to hear/read that from time to time. And far be it for me to bribe you with quicker updates in exchange for reviews, but I cannot deny the effect your reviews and manifestations of interest have on an author's motivation._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 6 Holes in Black<strong>

Ziva was reading a book on the couch in the living room. They had made it home and through their evening routine early enough for her to indulge in some _me-time_ (_she-time_ that is, actually) while Tony had volunteered to entertain the band of three. From time to time she could hear the sounds of footsteps, the creaking of a door or the thumping of something or other. Tony was usually very innovative with games, so she had learned not to make much of it - and not to try and discern any given noise. Only when small, light footsteps came closer and closer did she look up. She found Liora battling with those ten steps leading her downstairs. Ziva felt a familiar pull to get up and help the two-year-old, but knew that her acquired niece was very similar to her own children in the way that she felt the need to prove her independence. Ziva chuckled slightly upon the heavy sigh Liora heaved at the foot of the stairs. The little girl set out in a full-fledged sprint the moment she spotted her Aunt sprawled out on the couch.

"Zee-vah, Zee-vah, Zee-vah", the little girl chanted, skidding to a halt at the coffee table. Liora usually got frustrated that her pronunciation of _'Auntie'_ didn't match that of everyone around her, so she mostly skipped it altogether. And once again Ziva felt herself smile broadly at the obvious kick Liora got out of the _'Zee'_-part of her name, while the _'vah'_ was more of the last ounce of leftover breath.

"What is it?", Ziva inquired, feigning a little bit of over-excitement.

"Unca Tony lookin' fo' me", the two-year-old informed her, pointing towards the ceiling.

"So you need to hide, Liora."

The little girl nodded impatiently. "Wis you."

"With me? You want to hide with me?"

She nodded again, trudging over to the couch.

"Well, let's see how we can hide you." Ziva bent forward, picked the little girl up and scrambled a bit to the side, so that most of Liora's body fit in the gap between herself and the backrest of the couch. Then she covered both of them with a blanket. Liora's head was resting on her arm, but otherwise they had rendered the little girl invisible to Tony's playful eyes. When they heard the thumping of footsteps on the stairs, Liora instinctively shrunk deeper into her cozy hideout. But it wasn't Tony thundering down the stairs, it was Tali with an expression of excitement matching her cousin's.

"Mommy, you gotta help me hide or daddy's gonna find me", she rattled off, immediately flinging herself into Ziva's side.

"I am afraid, I am already taken, tateleh", Ziva chuckled, pointing out Liora's head to her daughter.

Tali didn't seem irritated by that fact more than she was instantly weighing her remaining options. With a sudden idea she climbed onto the couch and pulled back the blanket around Ziva's feet. She slotted herself in between the backrest and the pillows at the footend of the couch and then pulled the covers to her chin so that only the edges of her face remained visible. Ziva chuckled and shook her head, leaning down to make sure Tali could still breathe properly and wasn't too uncomfortable. A few minutes later, after both girls had already become increasingly restless, another set of feet could be heard walloping down the stairs. And once again both girls tried to hide even the last bits and pieces of themselves. But, once again, it wasn't Tony. This time it was David who was making a point of creeping along the living room floor as noiselessly as possible.

"I gotta hide from dad", he explained upon Ziva's questioning look even before he had reached the coffee table. When he did, however, his eyes fell on Liora's and Tali's heads almost entirely hidden by Ziva, a blanket, the couch and pillows.

"You are a little late, neshomeleh." Ziva smiled through a whisper.

His pondering was cut short, however, when menacingly slow and purposefully loud footsteps could be heard. The eight-year-old quickly jumped behind the armrest of the couch, right behind Ziva's head. When Tony arrived in the living room he found Ziva staring at him innocently with a big grin on her face - he also saw a part of David's foot peeking out behind the couch, Tali's wayward curls sticking to the backrest and Liora's eyes staring back at him. He winked at his partner and started roaming the living room, blatantly narrating his fruitless search. Tali turned out to be the first one overtaken by her own curiosity and he eventually caught her stealing a look at him.

Tony leapt over to the couch and swept her up into his arms. "Haha, I got you. Inspector DiNozzo's done it again!", he boasted, "Shouldn't have been so nosy, little princess." He tapped the little girl's nose.

Tali, folding her arms in front of her, declared, "Mommy was lookin' too."

"But I wasn't looking for your mom." Then he took a step to the side and uncovered his son crouching behind the couch.

David sighed upon his revelation. "That hiding place sucked anyway."

"Better ask Liora where to hide next time", Tony retorted, a little faux-impressed, "I still can't find her." He sighed over-dramatically.

Ziva could feel the two-year-old trying to stifle her laughter in her shoulder.

"Oh Liora, where art thou? Come show yourself. Help your old, clueless Uncle Tony", he whined, slowly rounding the couch with a grinning Tali still in his arms.

"Here!", Liora yelled finally, freeing herself from the blanket and her Aunt in one quick sweep and throwing her arms to the side. A big grin adorned her face.

"Ah, thank God, I thought we'd lost you", Tony quipped.

"You're the bestest hider", Tali complimented, leaning forward to pat her cousin on the shoulder. When Tony put the five-year-old back on the ground, she tapped his knee and ran off. "You're it, daddy."

David shrugged and followed his sister upstairs and Liora, with Ziva's help back on solid ground, waddled after them purposefully.

"You are it", Ziva laughed with an endearing edge, welcoming his lips on hers.

"You should know", he returned suggestively, leaving her with a certified DiNozzo-grin.

* * *

><p>It was Wednesday morning. Ziva was standing in one of the elevators at NCIS headquarters, a giant cup of CafPow in hand. Wednesdays and Fridays McGee and Abby swapped routine-roles: McGee would tend to Liora while Abby would come in particularly early. To make up for McGee's absence, either Tony or Ziva would do the same. Today it had been Ziva's turn and as always she was now on her way to the lab for some much needed best-friend-ed intermezzo. When the doors shifted open in front of her, however, she immediately sensed that something was wrong. There was no sound, no music blaring at her eardrums. All was silent except for the low clicking sounds of various instruments.<p>

Ziva's eyes narrowed. When she entered the lab, Abby's back was turned towards her. The forensic specialist was typing into her computer, but her shoulders were slumped forward and she was lacking the usual fervor. She seemed preoccupied, not really there. This would have been unusual for many, but for a person as dedicated and devoted to her work as Abby, it drove outright worry through Ziva's body.

"Good morning, Abby", Ziva greeted, a smile adorning her face nonetheless. She placed the CafPow in front of her best friend and waited for some kind of reaction. There was none. "Abby?"

"You know, I know that chemical composition. I know that I know it. I've looked at it like a thousand times before", Abby started off-handedly.

"Maybe there is something different-"

"No, there's nothing different. It's the same as it always is. But I just…I have no idea what this is." Abby's typing became more furious and erratic.

Ziva reached out and placed her hand softly on top of Abby's. Immediately, Abby stopped. She turned to look at her friend with that gaze of deep sorrow Ziva had only seldom seen so clearly on her face. "What is really wrong, Abby?", Ziva inquired quietly.

"I don't even know where to start." Abby sighed. Suddenly, she found it very hard to be near Ziva. She took a step back and leaned against the evidence table.

Ziva watched her closely. She truly seemed for a loss. She knew which question to ask. She had been suspecting she would have to ask that question ever since yesterday evening. When they had come to pick up their daughter, Abby had clung to sleeping Liora in a way Ziva had never seen before and McGee had appeared so preoccupied and uneasy - he had always been the easiest to read for Ziva. His feelings were practically radiating off his body and Ziva had always been especially alert to them, always feeling some kind of special protectiveness towards the onetime Probie. "How was your appointment with the adoption agency?", Ziva asked finally.

Abby looked away and through the small window to her left. "Do you love your kids?"

Ziva was taken aback. What kind of counter-question was that? Her eyebrows rose, but she tried to answer evenly, not trying to upset Abby any further. "Of course I do. More than anything."

"Right. I get that, I- I really do", Abby affirmed, finally turning to meet Ziva's eyes, "I get it 'cause I love my daughter, I love her more than anything else in the world. I'm not her biological mother, I know that, I didn't give birth to her, but I _love_ her…_so_ much." Suddenly, there were tears in Abby's eyes.

Ziva felt the need to go over there and draw her friend into a hug. But she knew she couldn't, not yet. "Abby, please, tell me what is going on."

"Liora's dad came back."

"What- What do you mean, her dad?"

"You're right, he was never there, so he can't come _back_, but- Her biological father turned up."

"Her-"

"Her biological father." Abby took a deep breath. "He came into a carload of family money. So, he paid a private investigator to look for the offspring his previously messed-up lifestyle might have spawned… As it turns out, he never even knew his girlfriend was pregnant."

"But you legally adopted Liora. Her mother never disclosed him as her father. This cannot amount to anything", Ziva merely rattled off the first thoughts that came to mind, momentarily stunning herself with her erratic reaction.

"He asked the agency to make contact with us. It's not like he wants to take her away from us or something…at least they didn't say he wanted to do that. Could he do that?"

"No, no, Abby, he cannot do that", Ziva cautioned the sudden alarm in her friend's eyes, finally stepping over and enclosing Abby's hand once more.

"They- They said he just wants to meet her. That he- he didn't wanna do anything without checking with us first. I mean, that sounds reasonable enough, right?", Abby ended uncertainly.

"I guess…"

"Then why can't I shake that feeling, that feeling of _dread_…that something very, very bad will happen and I will lose my daughter?" A tear slid down Abby's cheek.

A soft smile settled on Ziva's face. "Because we worry, Abby. That is what we do. We worry about them, _all_ the time."

A diminutive smile tugged at Abby's lips.

"But no one will take Liora away from you, you hear me? No one. We will make sure of that", Ziva confirmed with returned vigor.

Abby nodded, finally giving in and falling into Ziva's embrace. She took a deep breath, holding onto her best friend for a few moments before straightening back up and trying to regain her composure. "I need to take my mind off of this", she declared, slightly shaking her hands and going back over to her computers. "Mind off. What did you decide on the Consultant gig?"

"Smooth", Ziva quipped, trying to set herself in the mood for leisure-talking. "I will gratefully and respectfully decline."

"You will? I mean, you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure."

"What's Tony have to say about that?" Abby's eyebrows rose in a soft scowl.

"Despite his usual nagging Tony knows it is ultimately my decision", Ziva clarified.

"But he did have some valid points, right?"

"He did, but-"

"I mean, I know you have this revised Rule #44, always putting the kids first and all-"

"I do", Ziva confirmed quite adamantly, "And that is a good thing."

"I didn't say it's a bad thing. But it's not all good when you start forgetting yourself at some point. They won't be there forever, you know." Abby's voice was light and calm, but Ziva sensed the edge of heaviness ringing through.

"Maybe I am _over-_compensating for my own childhood, maybe you and Tony are right", Ziva smiled slightly, determined to put this particular topic to a final rest, "But three years ago my past put my whole family in great danger. I will not risk challenging that past again, not as long as my kids are not completely sick of me."

Little did she know that right then and there that decision was no longer in her own hands.

* * *

><p>"There is my better half!", Tony called out to Ziva when she rounded the orange corner.<p>

"Serious matters had to be discussed", Ziva retorted, cocking her head to the side. She quickly leaned up for a peck on the cheek as the only sign of affection they usually allowed themselves at work. "The kids got to school alright, yes?"

"Yep. Actually, your son discussed a serious matter with me as well."

"What's that?"

"He asked if I would be upset if he asked you to do that job thing at school with him", Tony informed her. A smile crept onto his face as the sincere concern in his son's voice resounded in his head.

"Oh." Ziva briefly stopped typing. For the revelatory-named _'profession day'_ everyone in David's class had to ask an adult to present their profession to the class. And while Ziva exerted every ounce of self-assuredness in her chosen profession, the thought of talking in front of a class had always discomforted her. She was the practical kind - she was comfortable doing, not talking. "And… Are you?"

"Am I what?", Tony laughed.

"Upset."

"Of course not. I just thought you should have some time to…adjust."

Suddenly, he was standing in front of her desk, a knowing smile on his face. He knew that Ziva was by far not comfortable with the whole public speaking aspect - that was _his_ specialty. But he also knew she would rather face up to her own insecurities than disappoint their son's request. Their eyes were locked in wordless intimacy when McGee finally entered the bullpen. Tony's mouth instantly opened for the first comment of the day, but he was cut short when the tip of Ziva's boot made well-aimed contact with his shin beneath her desk. Tony swallowed his words with a sharp intake of breath, his eyes darting towards his partner. When he found Ziva softly shaking her head, he knew something more was up than her usual protectiveness. A questioning look overtook the green in his eyes and Ziva mouthed a pointed _'later'_.

Finding Tony's silence highly unusual, McGee looked up just in time to follow their quiet exchange. He rolled his eyes. "Abby told you, didn't she?", he sighed, looking directly at Ziva, "Of course she did. Today's Wednesday. What was I thinking…" He slumped down in his chair with a huff.

"McGee-", Ziva started but was cut off by Tony.

"Look, McPreoccupied, I'm still a pillow talk short of knowing what exactly is going on here", Tony said, going over to his desk and retrieving a file. He turned around and tossed it onto McGee's desk with a pointed thud. "But whatever it is, you're at work. And at work you think about work." Tony's words weren't harsh but definite.

"Right. And what are _you_ doing?", McGee retorted, easily falling into their old-couple-bickering-routine.

"Direct and oversee, wee Probie. The burden of authority."

"Oh, but you make it look so easy", McGee quipped sardonically, opening the file in his hand.

Ziva smiled, not raising her eyes from the report she was reading.

"You get your shot at our new house-guest", Tony clarified.

"Johnston?"

"I underestimated the guy last time, but not again. I gotta get a clear read on him, but he's too good at bothering me. I need some distance."

McGee nodded.

* * *

><p>After a quick briefing Tony found himself behind the two-way mirror in the <em>Observation Room<em>. He was standing with his hands in his pockets, watching Ian Johnston on the other side: He was wearing a different shirt, but otherwise he appeared unchanged. He was looking at nothing in particular, but his foot was impatiently tapping the tiling beneath it. His arms fell limply down his sides. Occasionally his fingers started running through a scale in C major against the seat of his chair. Suddenly the door behind Tony was opened and closed.

"He even asked to use staff showers to shave", Ziva informed her partner, taking a stand next to him. Her eyes narrowed.

Tony merely scoffed.

"Theories?"

"Other than that he's the merchant of death and sitting out the last couple of Marines' death… No, none", Tony remarked, squaring his shoulders against his own cluelessness.

"You may call him crackled, but he is doing this on purpose."

"It's cracked, not crackled."

She arched a brow. "Where is the difference?"

He turned towards her. "Hardwood and wood briquettes."

"Wha-"

"Hmmm." He smiled. They turned back to watch Johnston. "We still gotta figure out what _this_ is that he's doing on purpose."

"He is a programmer. He carefully calculates his moves."

"And I was his zwischenzug. So, now we do a little mind-twinning."

As if on cue McGee quickly entered the _Interrogation Room_ right at that moment. Without much ado he placed the file, much thicker now than it had been the day before, on the table - its rim carefully in line with the edge of the table.

"Different agent", Johnston remarked colorlessly.

"Aren't _you_ a regular _DupeGuru_?", McGee retorted.

"Clever", Johnston affirmed with a blatantly sardonic edge. "How you referred to a file scanning tool to show me that you know who I am and what I do."

"I thought so", McGee said dryly, "But it's what you _did_. You _resigned_, remember?"

"Yah…my memory's a little fuzzy on details right now." He smiled crookedly.

"That's why they sent me. I'm good at recovery procedures."

Johnston groaned quietly. "Oh, don't insult me. You can't change the actor and not change the act." Beyond the glass Ziva's eyes darted to the side and found Tony smiling ever so slightly.

McGee's eyebrows rose innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mirroring", Johnston nodded. "Nice."

"I'm actually quite a bit different…from Agent DiNozzo." McGee leaned back in his chair.

Johnston's eyebrows rose. Then his gaze dropped to McGee's left hand and the wedding band surrounding its ring finger. "You look it… So who am I talking to exactly?"

"Special Agent McGee."

Johnston immediately took to scanning McGee's appearance: from his lank and muscular fingers, the way his eyes moved analytically and his clothes, dress-shirt and jacket without tie. "So, you're the brains." A fleet smile sprinted across McGee's face, driving an even bigger one onto Johnston's. "And you like that. You like that role…you _need_ that role."

McGee sat up straight again - every expression of unperturbed calm wiped away. "Tell me what it is you wanna tell us."

"Oh, you _so_ need that role."

"Mr. Johnston, we can only help you if you tell us…and soon."

"Why?"

"Why should you tell us? You _came_ to us", McGee countered a little irritably.

"No", Johnston shook his head briefly. "Why do you think that what I want to tell you will help me…or anyone at all for that matter?"

"I-"

"It's what motivates you to do this, right? I bet you're not only the brains, but the _big_ brains. You could be doing whatever…but instead you choose, daily, to live on Uncle Sam's droppings. You gotta have some strong principles and ideals going. I'm guessing… Military upbringing?"

McGee's shoulders squared against the sudden image of his Admiral father. Johnston smiled knowingly. "This isn't about me", the agent defended.

"This is more about you than it is about me."

"I'm starting to think that you have _no_ idea what this is about."

A soft and quiet _'Ah'_ slipped from Johnston's lips. Then he suddenly dove under the table as if he was looking for something. Before McGee could wrap his mind around what was happening, though, Johnston had re-surfaced and was now leaning across the table, scanning him up and down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?", McGee exclaimed.

"I'm looking for buttons", he answered matter-of-factly.

"Buttons?"

"Yep."

"What buttons?"

"To push." A grin spread on Johnston's face and he settled back in his chair.

McGee did the same, asking calmly, "If I let you try, will you answer one question?"

"I don't do bargains."

"Yes, well, either you start doing them or I'm outta here", McGee declared, continuing before Johnston could rebuff, "And you just said it yourself, it's about _me_ as much as it is about you."

Johnston scoffed. He threw his head back. "Ask away."

"Are you just a sick bastard with a game-plan or do you actually know something?" Beyond the glass Ziva and Tony turned towards each other, both sporting similar looks of surprise at McGee's tone of voice.

"What the hell? Of course I know something", Johnston blurted out.

"Not hell, Mr. Johnston", McGee leaned forward and folded his hands on top of the table, "Buttons."

A soft laugh trickled from Johnston's lips. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

"Not the only one here."

A smile settled on Johnson's face. He blinked - once, twice, thrice. Suddenly, the smile vanished and he banged his fists on the table, driving a jolt through McGee's body. "Not appreciating it, pal." He grabbed the edges of the table and pushed it away from him, causing McGee to quickly pull back in his chair so as to avoid painful impact. "Guy like you doesn't get to behave like the jock in the room. Those were the guys that shoved you into lockers after you finished their trig homework. I mean, look at you!", he snarled, pushing himself up from his chair, "You're stuck here in a crabby government official's job while they're banging the woman of your jerk-off dreams."

Watching the vile gloating on Johnston's face, Ziva felt an odd tugging at both of her hands. Her jaw clenched slightly. A second later, however, she could feel Tony's hand on her shoulder. She looked over to find him smiling reassuringly at her. "He can hold his own, you'll see."

After a moment of silence and staring at Johnston with an absent expression, McGee inhaled deeply. "Really? The geek-angle? I've filled those shoes for too long to even _react_ to that."

Johnston hurtled himself forward, throwing his full bodily weight onto the table right in front of McGee. His blue eyes were blazing with anger. "You really think taunting me is a good idea?"

McGee stared at him. "Is it?"

Johnston applied his boot to the edge of McGee's chair, shoving him to the side so that the two men were now looking at each other, no objects between them. Johnston was leaning onto the table with one hand, the other one hanging jerkily down his side.

"What about your wife? Wouldn't a little gratuity reduce the chances of divorce?", Johnston growled, his face but inches from McGee's. "Think about it. A bigger house, a new pair of earrings, a whole set of jewelry. Something to look at and remind her of the sanctity of matrimony while she's fucking your neighbor."

McGee's lips formed a smaller line than before but other than that he remained immobile, just staring at Johnston, unperturbed.

"No? You wife not the jewelry-distracted type?", Johnston asked rhetorically. He lowered his voice to a hiss, "What about your kid then?"

Instantly, McGee's jaw clenched.

A chuckle escaped Johnston's throat. "Son?"

McGee's reaction didn't change.

"Daughter then." Johnston smiled. Immediately, he could see the muscles in McGee's face and arms cramp up.

"Don't", McGee said slowly, evenly.

"Don't what? Talk about your little daughter?", Johnston challenged, pushing McGee's chair further back, "How controlling of you. It's _all_ kinda possessive, though, isn't it? Holding her back, forcing her into the life you live just because she wasn't lucky enough to have a different daddy?"

"Stop."

"Stop what? The truth?"

"It's not."

Johnston laughed, leaning towards McGee even further. "It _so_ is."

"No."

"Come on, Grinch", Johnston sneered, "Wouldn't daddy love to see his little girl actually _like_ the gifts she gets?"

"I said stop", McGee barked, pushing himself up and against Johnston. Before he could react, McGee had taken a hold of his wrists behind his back and was shoving him back towards the chair on the other side of the table. "Sit down." He applied just enough pressure to Johnston's shoulders to get him to cave and take a seat.

"You can't hold me!", Johnston roared, moving to get back up and go up against the agent.

McGee firmly held on to Johnston's shoulder, however, keeping him in place. Then he leaned down to whisper into his ear, his voice even and calm, "Actually… Thanks to the scene you just pitched I can. Assaulting a federal agent is kind of an offense..._pal_." With that he turned and left.

The moment McGee opened the door to the _Observation_ _Room_ he inhaled deeply. When he looked up he found Ziva's somewhat impressed expression and Tony faux-clapping. McGee's mouth gaped for a moment, then he released a long breath. "Wrong button, I guess", he remarked, stepping into the room.

"Brava!", Tony exclaimed, a smile adorning his face. "There's a Hulk in McBreeze's clothing."

"It didn't get us anything, though." McGee smacked his lips. He turned to the two-way mirror and looked at Johnston sitting there, perfectly still with his eyes closed as if channeling a different persona again.

"_Au_ _contraire_", Tony remarked, following McGee's eyes, "For starters, we now have proof he's a complete whack job."

Ziva turned towards them and shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "We _also_ know that he does know something. He was quite protective of that fact. And that all this is a game to him."

"But something felt off, didn't it?", Tony mused, his hands moving back into his pockets.

"He didn't seem as self-assured as he was with you", McGee observed.

* * *

><p>Still left to try and put together a workable profile of Ian Johnston, something that had proven to be inanely difficult, Tony had decided not to do another round of questioning that day. In fact, Ziva and McGee were amazed how much of the paperwork, which usually piled up in stacks matching Tali's height until its supreme deadline, they could finish what with no new cases coming in. That wasn't highly unusual. Marines and Navy personnel didn't die on a busy schedule, but something was always coming up. The thing was, though, that the guy who was currently their <em>raison d'explorer<em> was posing a very big mystery to all of them. As much as Tony wanted to just throw him out or, better yet, pin him on another agency - preferably the FBI - there was something about Ian Johnston that made him try even harder. There was something there. They all knew it.

Later that day Ziva passed Tali's room on her way downstairs. Tony and their little girl had been cooped up inside since they had returned home, practicing her lines for the play. Even though the play was scheduled for the end of term, rehearsal started in a week's time and Tali, ever her parents when it came to stubborn determination, wanted to be prepared.

"You're saying it all w'ong, daddy", Tali admonished her father beyond the ajar door. Ziva smiled at her daughter's tone of voice.

Tony groaned exasperatedly. "It's just for practice, sweetheart. I won't perform with you."

"But I gotta practice right. I'll be on a _stage_, daddy. Where everyone can _see_ me", Tali declared, sounding every bit as much excited as apprehensive.

"That's why you try to remember _your_ lines", Tony reasoned, trying to even out his voice. Ziva could practically see the pointed look in his eyes right in front of her.

"I can't if you say you's all w'ong", Tali shot back.

Ziva returned to her track downstairs, accompanied by the sound of Tony's repeated groan. A soft chuckle passed her lips. When she arrived in the living room, David was kneeling on the floor and doing his homework at the coffee table, completely immersed in his work. Ziva took a sharp right and went to the kitchen, putting on hot water for some tea while she unloaded the dishwasher as quietly as possible. The apartment was virtually silent except for the muffled voices of her partner and daughter upstairs. She took a moment to breathe in that scarce occurrence before she filled two mugs and returned to the living room. There she dropped a kiss on David's head and placed one of the mugs in front of him.

"Todah", he muttered, briefly looking up at her.

"Bevakasha."

Ziva settled on the couch, retrieving her current book from underneath it. She drew her legs up and used them as a lectern, quietly sipping along to the sentences. Like that mother and son remained in comfortable silence for quite some time. Ziva occasionally looked up to check for the source of David's odd scoff or grunt, but since he hadn't made use of her ready presence, he couldn't have encountered a problem he hadn't been able to solve by himself yet.

Suddenly she could hear him inhale. "Mom?", he asked casually without looking around.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course", Ziva assured him, lowering the mug so that it rested against her thigh.

"What did your mom do?"

Ziva was momentarily taken aback. She had no idea where that question was coming from and she certainly hadn't anticipated it. Her late mother was seldom a topic or some kind of topical appendage with either of the children - or at all, for that matter. In fact, they made a habit of _not_ talking about the family they simply did not have. Both Tony and Ziva refrained from mentioning their mothers to anybody but each other - something they only ever did if they had a deeply-felt need to touch on that most painful subject. Ziva sometimes told the kids stories about her childhood in Israel, more now that Eli was somewhat back in their lives, and didn't feel like censoring the parts containing her late siblings. She had, of course, distilled her accounts, omitting some abhorrent truths about her siblings' deaths that had - in her opinion - no place in her children's images of them. As far as Tony and Ziva were concerned, Tali and David had enough family surrounding them - blood-related or not - that there was little need to fill their house with _would-have-been_'s. As Ziva's mind raced through its own emptiness on the sudden and unusual subject, she realized that, even though the kids didn't have a grandmother on either side, they had never questioned that fact.

"Why do you ask?", Ziva countered, her voice suddenly void of color. She couldn't help but lift her eyes to the picture she had brought home from Israel by way of her father's uncanny way of…knowing. She had placed it on the living room shelf among the other family memorabilia.

David shrugged but finally turned around upon his mother's tone. She looked into his eyes and blinked. "Just wonderin'."

"She- She was not- I mean, she did not work. She was at home with my siblings and...me", Ziva answered, a brief smile dashing across her face.

"And dad's parents?"

Now Ziva realized it wasn't so much about the family he addressed as it was about their profession. It was a preface, her son's way of a conversational preface. The lump in her throat released some of its pressure on her vocal chords and a small smile settled on her lips, smiling away her own irritation. "Your grandfather is a- a businessman with a very big business and your grandma Rosalie was a teacher", Ziva explained, refraining from calling her distant father-in-law a charmingly inveterate con man.

David mulled this over for a moment. "And Saba Eli is director of a big agency like Director Vance, right?"

"Yes."

David nodded and returned to his homework.

Ziva stared at his back. "Is there a reason for your interest in our parents' jobs?", she inquired innocently, leaning forward and around her son to put her empty mug on the table.

He was silent at first, then he turned around with wrinkles on his forehead reminding Ziva so much of contemplative Tony her smile grew in radiance. "You know how everybody has to find a grown-up to talk about their job in class, right?"

"Yes." Ziva nodded.

"Monday it's my turn." The eight-year-old looked at her pointedly, as if urging her to connect the dots herself.

"Yes", was all that Ziva said, however.

"Today it was Taylor Collins' turn and his grandpa is a fireman and tomorrow it's Janet Miller and her uncle's a pilot for planes as big as the one we went to Israel with", he rattled off, reminding Ziva even more of Tony with the overtly talkative side her son so rarely displayed - much unlike his father.

"Very important jobs, I am sure", Ziva remarked.

"Right", David affirmed a little less convincingly, "But your job is really, really important too and- and- Can you do my presentation?"

Ziva smiled, relieving the hesitant glimmer behind the eight-year-old's eyes. "I would love to." The love she was talking about, however, was probably much more connected to her son than the prospect of giving a presentation in front of on-looking parents and a band of more or much less inquisitive eight-year-olds.

"Really?"

"Of course."

"Thanks, mommy." He leaned up and engulfed her in a hug. "I already talked to dad and he said it's okay if I ask you to do it."

"I am glad", Ziva chuckled, brushing a kiss against her son's temple. When she pulled back she looked on questioningly. "But did you think I would say no?"

"I donno", David shrugged. "I thought you might not like talking about your job in front of everybody."

There was that observant nonchalance in his voice that demonstrated an understanding of people, emotions and inclinations well beyond his eight years of age. On the other hand there was clear evidence that Ziva didn't exactly juggle around with family-facts and vita-trivia on a daily basis. She had always been reverently protective of the details of her own life - she had to be, she had been brought up to be.

"That is very considerate of you, tateleh", Ziva said, caressing his cheek. She leaned forward and propped her forearms on her thighs, looking into her son's eyes. "But I do not want you to feel as if you cannot ask me things, just because you think I might not enjoy them or _want_ to do them, yes?"

"'kay."

"In a family you will always be helped."

David's brows furrowed. "Even if the one helping doesn't really want to?"

Ziva chuckled. "Yes, sometimes we might even help someone doing something we do not much like doing, but if it helps the other person we do it anyway... But I am _happy_ to do the presentation with you."

The edges of his mouth tilted upwards, forming a big smile. Ziva leaned forward and planted a kiss on his forehead. Suddenly, the weight on the couch shifted. Looking over she found her daughter, the little girl's face screwed up in a frustrated scowl. They hadn't even heard her come downstairs. Ziva narrowed her eyes at the five-year-old.

"I can't work like that", Tali sighed, folding her arms in front of her body and falling back against the couch, which, accounting for her lack of bodily height, resulted in her head held up by the backrest while her upper body remained stretched on the seat upholstery.

Before another word could be uttered, Tony came walloping down the stairs. He straightened up to his full height and released the same dramatic sigh they had just heard come out of Tali's mouth. "It's official! We totally raised ourselves a diva!"

Looking into matching expressions on Tony's and Tali's faces, David and Ziva broke out into unisonous laughter.

* * *

><p>Tony switched off the light in the living room and slowly started his trip upstairs. The hallway was dark except for a faint glimmer of cone-shaped light penetrating the customary crack in Tali's door. Its source was the fairy-lamp she still insisted on. When he entered his and Ziva's bedroom he could hear her soft snores and smiled. While he had, after an hour of zapping, finally struck gold with an old episode of <em>'M*A*S*H'<em>, Ziva had decided to abandon her reading and call it a night an hour ago. He got comfortable beneath the covers and turned towards Ziva's side of the bed. He tucked an arm under his head and stared at her through the darkness his eyes were gradually adjusting to. She was lying on her back, her hair covering the pillow and her face slightly bowed towards him. He had hoped she would still be awake.

After a few minutes, however, a murmur slipped past her lips, "Yes, Tony?"

He was taken aback by the clear consciousness of her voice. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I am."

"As you were then", he countered and flipped onto his back.

"There is something on your mind", she observed quietly, her eyes still closed.

He was staring at the ceiling now. He folded his arms behind his head and slightly shook it for unnecessary visual emphasis. "Nothing that can't wait till tomorrow."

"That was not the impression I got." Her eyes eventually fluttered open and she turned her head fully to face him. "You have been meaning to talk to me all evening."

"You know, your Spidey-Ninja-Senses are annoying sometimes, right?", he remarked, his eyes meeting hers.

"Is it still about my not accepting Vance's offer?"

Tony could hear the slight ring of a sigh in her voice. "I know, I said I trusted your decision on this, but… I still think you should take it."

He couldn't search her eyes for her reaction any further as she immediately plastered them to the ceiling. For a moment he could see neither her look nor any expression on her face. But he knew that face. He knew that when Ziva felt she was about to show too many of her emotions on her face, she would wipe all of them off at once. With a sudden jolt she sat up. Leaning against the headboard she finally turned back to look at him. "Why is this so important to you?"

He rolled his eyes up at her, utterly sincere. "I already told you _all_ of my reasons in _all_ of our debates on this." Then he followed her move and sat up.

"And I refuse to subject our children to that kind of change just so you can get that dream house of yours", Ziva snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "This isn't about the money, damn it."

"Then what, Tony? What is it that makes you reheat our argument again and again?" She clenched her jaw, willing herself not to talk too loudly and still bring her agitated point across.

"We weren't arguing. We were talking", he hissed back.

"So, good, _now_ we are arguing", she deadpanned.

"I don't get why you're so dead-set against taking that promotion."

"It is not a promotion, it is a complementary position", she clarified firmly.

"Whatever it is, you won't take it. You won't even think about it-"

"I _did_ think about it", she cut in, lowering her voice even more to a whisper, "It is hard not to think about something you _insist_ on talking about almost _every_ single day for a week."

"Don't give me that crap. I know you, Zi. You made up your mind the moment Vance told you. Ten CATOBAR carriers couldn't get you to budge." He had no idea when exactly this had turned into a full-fledged argument, but they were definitely in it now.

She scoffed, her voice hardening. "Oh, I know that you will never understand that, but unlike other people in this room, I am not only thinking about myself when I make work-related decisions." Even in the darkness of the room she could see the look of hurt cross his features. His mouth had opened for a quick rebuttal, but the moment he had processed her words his mouth fell shut and he just looked at her, stunned. "I am sorry", she relented quietly.

Tony slightly shook his head. "It's okay… You're right, I- I don't have the best track record-"

"That is not what I meant-"

A soft laugh escaped Tony's lips. "No, it's exactly what you meant."

"No", she insisted, moving her hand across the covers a bit closer to the centre of the bed. "I supported the choice you made and nothing has changed about that. What I meant to say was…that I cannot do that to them again", she said, her voice much softer now than before, "And that I need _you_ to support that choice."

"You know I do, but it's just- I think you are overreacting. I think you're afraid of taking the job and you put the kids in front-"

"No, Tony", she shook her head, the sincerity of her words glistening behind her eyes, "I am not afraid of the job. I am afraid of the consequences that job might have on our family."

"So, you won't be home each afternoon. You won't be home to tuck them in on a few nights a month. What's the big deal, Ziva?", he exclaimed, sounding almost incredulous.

"Tony, it was not even two years ago that you came back to D.C. fulltime. And just when we had found some kind of routine, Gibbs resigned and everything changed on them again. There are _already_ many afternoons we are not home and there are _already_ nights we are not home to tuck them in."

"I get that. Really, I do. But that's how it works, Ziva. That's reality for all working parents", Tony reasoned, turning his full body into his point and towards her.

"But most of them are not in danger of getting shot or blown up every time they leave the office", Ziva argued, finding her year-old mantra that the incident three years ago had only reinforced.

Tony sighed. "Is this the moment you tell me you'd be targeted by dozens of hitmen the moment they hook you up to a video screen?"

"Please, take this seriously. I was an assassin. I was a Mossad operative. I do not know who in the world might still have it in for me", she retorted forcefully, "Was Niv Peled not enough reason to fear that?"

A soft laugh dripped from Tony's lips. His eyebrows rose and he set out for the last argument he had on hand, "They're kids."

"Yes, they are. And they have enough to deal with in their own lives. Tali will start elementary school in the fall, David just entered that advanced study program. We cannot uproot every part of their life and then expect them to deal with it on their own." She could see that he was not contesting those arguments, not at all.

"Of course not."

"What is it then?" He was silent, silently staring into her eyes. A small smile tucked at her lips, but her eyes remained wary. "I thought we had a plan? We agreed to save up enough, so that when David starts Junior High we can look for a new place. Place they will need by then. Right now we do not need more than this."

"A good plan we have there", Tony laughed, looking at their hands on top of the blanket and how close to each other they had inched over the course of the last few minutes. Then he finally looked back up at her. "I just want you to be happy."

"But I am", she smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. "I am _so_ happy."

"No, I want you to be over-the-moon happy, Ziva", he insisted, taking her hand in his and kissing it, "You deserve to be happier than happy. And I want to give you that, don't you get that?"

She chuckled. "I _am_ happier than happy." They both knew it was a bad idea to end an argument like that on a wordless solution, but Tony ultimately gave in and leaned over, capturing her lips with his. Ziva couldn't help but deepen the kiss, her hands finding their way to his neck.

"Mommy?"

They instantly broke apart at the sound of Tali's voice. The little girl was standing in the doorframe, one hand clutching Shim, the other one cautiously feeling a secure path through the door.

"Did you have a bad dream, tateleh?"

Ziva held out an arm and Tali crept closer to her parents' bed, stopping on her mother's side. The little girl shook her head. Ziva bent over and lifted the five-year-old up, gently settling her down in her lap. Tali instantly rested her head against her mother's shoulder, snuggling into Ziva's arms.

"Did you come to visit?", Tony smiled, reaching out to caress the little girl's cheek as she was facing him. Once again Tali merely shook her head.

Ziva tilted her head slightly so as to look into Tali's eyes. "Why are you awake then?"

"You", Tali declared quietly, looking between her parents.

"Us?", Tony exclaimed.

Tali nodded. "You talked really loud and I woke'd up", she explained. Then she rolled her eyes up at her mother. "You an' daddy fightin', mommy?"

"Oh, tateleh... We were not fighting", Ziva calmed the little girl, drawing her a little closer.

"Mommy and I didn't have the same opinion on something", Tony elaborated, smiling reassuringly, "But now we do." He attached a pointed look to that last part, which he shot into Ziva's direction. Ziva offered him a grateful smile.

"I no like you fightin'", Tali asserted.

"We do not like fighting either", Ziva affirmed, kissing the little girl's head.

After a while Tali's eyes started to droop and Tony held out both hands to her. "Come on, princess, let's get you back to bed."

Tali quickly shook her head and snuggled deeper into Ziva's embrace. "Do you want mommy to hold you until you have gone back to sleep?", Ziva asked sweetly, starting to slowly rock the little girl in her arms. Tali nodded tiredly and turned her head into the crook of Ziva's neck. Sighing contently, her eyes started to close.

While Ziva placed her chin onto Tali's head, her eyes closed to the steadying breathing of her daughter, Tony found himself staring and mesmerized by the moment. There was a small tug on his heart. Moments like these made holding out on bigger dreams and grander wishes worth it. He couldn't help the slightly chauvinist notion of providing for his family's every need - maybe even needs he was projecting onto them, needs they might not have had yet. But Ziva was right, right now they didn't need more than this.

As if reading his thoughts and sensing his smile - she probably had anyway - she reached for his hand. Squeezing it, she whispered, "This: you, and Tali, and David. Happier than happy."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Review?<strong>_


	7. Spacing to the Distance

Again, a sincere** THANK YOU** is in order. I cannot tell you how glad I am that you are enjoying this story!

* * *

><p><strong>ChEmMiE: <strong>Yes, the accident in Tel Aviv already happened in the story's timeline. I can assure you, I did not forget about that :) But as with the show itself, I will have to ask for your patience...

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 7 Spacing to the Distance<strong>

Tali was awoken by soft rustling and the odd clicking sound. She was lying on her stomach in the middle of her parents' bed, her left ear close enough to her father's head to hear his soft snoring. She threw out her right arm but that side of the bed was empty. Screwing her face up in confusion, she turned her head and finally opened her eyes: empty.

"Mama?", she murmured, lifting her head a little.

"Shsh, tateleh, go back to sleep", Ziva answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed, already clad in her running attire. She smoothed back Tali's wayward morning-hairstyle, smiling at the little girl's drowsy expression.

"Where's ya goin'?", Tali inquired tiredly, scooting closer to Ziva's thigh and flinging her arm across her mother's lap.

"I am going for a run", Ziva explained quietly, leaning down to whisper into her daughter's ear. "But it is very, very early."

"Go with", the five-year-old suggested absently, her eyes already dropping to a close once more.

"Yes, you go with me in just a little while, tateleh", Ziva hummed, her calm and quiet voice breezing by Tali's subconscious. She continued caressing Tali's hair, whispering soft words of nothingness while she rearranged the covers around her little girl. When Tali's breathing became deep and rhythmical, Ziva bent down and planted a kiss against her temple before carefully lifting Tali's arm enough to slip back out of bed.

On her way out of the bedroom she couldn't help but turn around once more at the foot of the bed. Tali and Tony looked like perfect mirror images, each hogging one side of the bed. She went over to Tony and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Later, my love." He mumbled incoherently against her and she left with a smile.

She retrieved her watch from the table by the door and quickly turned to the right so as to check on David. It was odd to find his door open and even odder to find the eight-year-old not in his bed. The covers were disheveled, but he was not beneath them. With eyes narrowed inquisitively Ziva went downstairs. There she found him stretching over the sink in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. His pajamas and hair looked as tousled as his bed.

"David?", she called out, crossing the distance between them.

He whirled around, his look not really surprised. His mom always went for a run in the morning and he was often roused from shallow slumber by her morning-routine and then just stayed up watching some TV while he waited for her to return and actually start their day.

He took a sip from his water. "Boker tov."

A brief smile formed on Ziva's lips. After her Aunt Nettie had died two years ago the kids and especially David were the only ones left understanding and returning her native Hebrew. Now, of course, she spent entire phone conversations talking in Hebrew to her father. Her language habits alone had always been a microcosm of all the changes taking place in her life.

"Boker tov, tateleh." Ziva leant down and planted a quick kiss on his forehead. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "Couldn't sleep 'n'more."

Immediately concern was etched in Ziva's face. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yep… Just didn't feel like sleeping no more." He smiled, drinking the last of his water.

Ziva nodded slowly, checking the watch on the oven across from her. "I am a little late today. Would you like to come with me?"

Recently, the fact that David was as comprehensive a sleeper as his mother had led to more and more mother-son-runs in the mornings. As opposed to Tali's and Tony's holistic need for sleep, David was fine going on his seven or eight hours a night - and nothing more. When he was awake, he was awake for good. Sometimes that fact had even defeated Ziva's sense of self-discipline - especially on cold, icy winter days - and she had abandoned her workout to enjoy some morning quality-time. Over the last couple of months, however, a joint running-routine had developed. Seeing as there had hardly been any soccer practice during the colder months, Ziva had coined the idea of complementary training - and David had taken to it quite gladly. He liked the budding calm of the D.C. morning, he liked to run - and he had to admit he liked the time spent with his mom. Ziva, of course, would considerably moderate her training in both pace and time, but she was happy to.

David didn't hesitate for long. "Okay?"

"Go upstairs and get ready. I will wait here."

He dashed upstairs and a few minutes later mother and son exited the apartment for a short circuit. Usually, they would limit their joint sessions to the weekend, but Ziva figured they could at least try a weekday for once. Careful not to exhaust the eight-year-old too much for his upcoming day at school, they returned half an hour later. While she sent David to the bathroom for a shower, Ziva retreated to her bedroom. Tali and Tony had meanwhile joined each other in the middle of the bed, where Tali was resting with her head on Tony's chest, his arm slung protectively around her. Ziva smiled at the sweet but by now denotative moment: Tony and Tali had become an interdependent item over the past two years.

Admittedly, there had been some difficulties in the beginning. After the repercussions of the revenge-plot spearheaded by Patrick Rikers and Niv Peled had been relegated to their private lives and dealing, Tali had been especially fixated on Ziva for a while - something that had not been helped by the fact Tony had had to return to Rota to get his unit and succession in order before his definite homecoming. However, their budding father-daughter-relationship had mended comparatively quickly and blossomed into something of a special bond that now surfaced at every given moment of their lives.

Ziva softly caressed Tali's cheek, then bent down and planted a kiss on Tony's lips until his eyes fluttered open and he deepened their moment of intimacy. She smiled at him and pulled back, causing him to carefully sit up, reimbursing Tali for the sudden disruption with offering his lap to her stirring form and a gentle kiss to her forehead. He blinked away the remnants of sleep in his eyes and scanned Ziva up and down.

"You've had sweatier days", he remarked, flashing a small and crooked grin at her.

She patted his cheek, returning his quietly seductive smile. "That depends on my partner in workout." Then she turned and left for the shower, leaving him humming after her.

* * *

><p>Ziva was sitting at her desk at NCIS headquarters, unaware of Tony returning from Vance's office until he tossed a file onto her desk, causing her to jolt upright and raise her eyebrows. She looked first at the file in its innocent beige-ness and then up at Tony.<p>

"Your turn", he remarked simply.

She quickly glanced into the file, finding Ian Johnston's face smiling back at her. "So, we are playing along, yes?"

Tony pointed upwards. "Just got a box full of shiny-brandy chips and a playing order." Without moving another facial muscle he walked over to his desk, sat down and started arranging some of the stray papers covering it. "Johnston's a highly decorated love-child. And apparently all his mommies and daddies, who are even more highly decorated, make a habit of spoiling their little brainy offspring, so Vance is totally game."

Ziva and McGee merely exchanged knowing frowns across the imagined diagonal between their desks. They knew that Tony hated higher politics hiding behind the mask of direct orders. They knew he hated them as much as Gibbs had. He was dealing way differently, though.

Suddenly, Tony's eyebrows shot up and he looked between Ziva and McGee, a somewhat manic smile on his face. "But for sandwich-feedback's sake here… Vance is really impressed by our increased output in paper-moving. There's a first for every compliment, I guess."

Ziva cocked her head to the side and fetched the file before she slid off her chair and hovered over to Tony's desk. She leaned in, her eyes narrowed, and scanned her partner's features. Then she jerked her head back. "He intrigues you, yes?"

Tony smiled. "Let's just say that with all those chips I can keep cranking that lever till it falls off for good."

* * *

><p>Ziva opened the door to <em>Interrogation II<em> without further embellishing. The moment the door snapped open, Johnston's blue eyes darted into its direction. There he saw Ziva handing the file to Tony, their hands touching briefly during take-over. She stepped in and quickly closed the door behind her, but a soft smile had already settled on Johnston's face.

"The queen", he remarked almost reverently.

Ziva, unperturbed by his words, merely took a seat on the empty chair, her eyes finding his across the table, on top of which she neatly folded her hands. Johnston held onto his smile for a while, scanning her up and down, left and right. After some time Ziva slightly tilted her head to the side. "You are observing me."

"Yes, I am", he affirmed, leaning back in his chair and joining his hands in his lap. "I think that's only fair given the fact your king of spades is watching me from beyond the mirror."

"King and queen, yes?" Ziva's brows furrowed almost unnoticeably.

Johnston swiftly shook his head. "A metaphor for metaphor's sake. You're not the kinda gal who dreams of castles and knights and diadems."

"Well, what do you observe then?", she asked simply, barely opening her mouth for that question.

His smile gained in radiance and he tipped upright. "You have an accent. I'm not any good with languages, but if I'd had to guess I'd say Middle Eastern somewhere. So, you have a foreign background, but to be working as a federal agent, you'd have to have citizenship. You're used to letting go, making sacrifices."

A quick smile sprinted across Ziva's face. "Israeli."

Johnston's eyebrows jumped upwards. "Mossad?"

"Stands to reason", Ziva relayed calmly, not flinching in the slightest. "But not anymore."

"That's important to you", Johnston claimed.

"Yes, it is."

"I did joint assessments in my day. Worked with Mossad, too", Johnston elucidated colorlessly. It didn't go unnoticed by Ziva or Tony that he had just shared the first definite piece of information about himself with either of them.

"Well?"

A soft huff escaped his lips. "I learned enough to know I'd better not do to _you_ what I did to Agent McGee yesterday."

Behind the glass a grin spread on Tony's face. He didn't know why - well, yeah, a part of him _did_ know -, but he had always felt that twitch of intrigued excitement at the thought and most often at the demonstration of Ziva's mad ninja-skills. There was something gripping about the cliché of a mysterious Mid-Eastern beauty she sometimes so reverentially embodied.

Ziva arched an eyebrow. "I would not recommend it."

Johnston nodded, tilting his head a little bit further even. Behind the mirror Tony could feel a nerve around his left eye twitch. "I see a self-dependent, strong-minded woman who always had to be more skilled, better trained and more disciplined than her male counterparts. And not just because she was a woman doing a man's job, but because she _was_ better."

Ziva remained immobile as Johnston's look became even more probing.

"I see great loss and great endurance, but beneath that…" He cocked his head to the side, blinking. "There's warmth and care, a maternal heart. That could be friends and relatives, the man waiting for you when you leave this room, but I'm guessing it's more than that…"

His blue eyes seemed to intensify in color as he leaned even closer, only six inches separating his chin from the table top now. Ziva didn't even as much as move her head to follow his movements. She merely dropped her eyes a little to keep him in complete focus.

He smiled. "Kids?"

Ziva didn't move.

"Oh, come on. There's no shame in it anymore. So what? You're not married, you have kids with the guy. As long as it's true love, right?", Johnston rambled, searching her eyes for any kind of reaction. "It _is_ true love, though?"

"Yes", Ziva stated simply, her voice clear as ever and driving a gentle smile onto Tony's face.

"So, no chance in hell, frozen or crispy, for me then, huh?", Johnston remarked casually, heaving a soft sigh. "Shame too… And if I tell you what I know?"

Ziva willed herself to refrain from any kind of reaction, but Tony didn't need to be just as careful. A frown settled on his face, but a small inquisitive glisten formed in the corner of his eyes nonetheless.

"What is it that you know, Mr. Johnston?", Ziva inquired serenely.

"Ian", he corrected immediately. "And it's quite the catch, I gotta say."

"You are the pitcher then", Ziva deadpanned.

Johnston chuckled slightly, wiggling his index finger at her. "You know, I pegged you for the pointed-sarcasm-type."

"For someone who enjoys exploring human behavior as much as you do, it must get very lonely at night…especially here", Ziva mused, arching an eyebrow.

"Nah", Johnston waved off, his smile fading a little in radiance, "It's a mindset issue." Then he leaned back in, lowering his voice, "But you could change that one way or another, you know."

A small smile flickered across Ziva's face. She slowly got up from her chair, meandering her body upright, then rounded the table, the index finger of her right hand drifting along the edge of the table as she did so. Johnston followed her with his blue eyes. She took a stand beside his chair and brought her face to his ear. "How?", she breathed, the smile persisting.

"I am sure you know how."

"You do?"

"Yes…", Johnston purred, finally turning to look at her directly. "And if I were you of all people, I'd wanna know what I know more than anyone else."

"Yes? And why is that?" Ziva's voice was suddenly evened out, a tinge of menace creeping its way in.

"That's for you to find out." Johnston smiled again. "Do we have a deal?"

"I have no memory of a deal", Ziva countered. She turned and walked towards the mirror, her eyes talking to Tony. He could see that Johnston's last comments had struck a chord in her. She then leaned against the glass, her left arm slung around her middle so as to support the elbow of her right one. Her right hand immediately found its way to her earlobe. Her eyes were narrowed inquisitively.

"_You_…don't forget, I'm sure of that."

"Funny… That you can be so sure of so many things", Ziva pondered, playing with the golden hoop attached to her ear, hoops that Tony had gotten her for Christmas (among other things). "Tell me, Mr. Johnston, what is it that you are _not_ so sure of."

Johnston's mouth gaped for a moment. "It's Ian. And right now… Nothing comes to mind."

"Oh, yes…something did." Ziva smiled knowingly. She approached him again and rested her arms on the table, capturing his blue eyes. "Believe me, Mr. Johnston, I know…_exactly_…what it looks like to appear…assured, when your whole life is unraveling."

Johnston could only stare at her, not a word leaving his lips. Ziva let her comment sink in, watching the walls crumble a little beneath his exterior. Then she simply turned and walked towards the door, opening it with a swift movement of her hand. She could hear him mumble something incoherent behind her back.

"What was that?", she inquired quickly, already standing in the corridor.

Johnston turned towards her, his expression as illegibly blank as can be. "I was wondering what your name was."

"Ziva", she answered. "Ziva David."

A soft smile settled on his face and he returned his eyes to the table in front of him. "Ziva… Bright and radiant."

A brief nod was all that Ziva returned before closing the door behind her. When she entered the _Observation Room_, Tony's green eyes and his gaze of inquisitive concern was waiting for her. She immediately crossed the distance between them.

"So… What do you think?", Tony started cautiously.

Ziva looked at him blankly, trying to process all that she had just heard. "Apparently, I should be more concerned about what he knows than you", she declared evenly.

"I guess, you didn't have an epiphany to match that?"

Ziva slightly shook her head.

"_So_ not liking this guy."

"I- He is not the bad guy", she said calmly.

Tony's eyebrows shot upwards. "No? Reminds me an awful lot of the mind-fucking-"

"No. That is not the impression I got", Ziva disagreed.

"How's that?"

"There was something vulnerable-"

Tony's opened his mouth to repudiate her opinion with a disbelieving scoff, but before that sound of superfluous breath had made it past his lips, the analyst in charge of all the observational equipment behind them warily interrupted their exchange with a timid _'Sir?'_

Ziva and Tony, usually very much unaware of the analysts' presence in the room, instantly turned to face her. The woman answered their questioning gazes by pointing towards the glass. Both returned their attention to Johnston, still sitting in the exact same position in the _Interrogation Room_, his gaze still plastered to the table top. Something was different now, though. They stepped closer almost simultaneously and they could both see, distinctly, silent tears slowly rolling down Ian Johnston's face.

* * *

><p>When their nanny, Cameron - a mid-20s university student with tons of experience he had run a more than thorough background-check on -, had asked to get that evening off, McGee had found himself jump at the opportunity of having his daughter at the office with them. He had gladly wished Cameron a nice evening when she had come to drop Liora off. Ever since he had left the adoption agency that Tuesday, he had felt that irrational fear of losing his daughter bud somewhere in the pit of his stomach - and he knew Abby wasn't feeling any different. They were still not talking about their fears, because it would have made it all too tangible, too real - but they both knew those fears were there. For the last two hours that Liora had run around exploring the depth and width of the bullpen, had colored on Tony's desk after her Uncle had left to pick up her cousins, had taken a trip to the vending machine with her Auntie Ziva and had eventually dosed off on a blanket Cameron had been thoughtful enough to enclose in the little girl's backpack - for those two hours McGee had felt safer, calmer and more comfortable than he had all day. He and Abby didn't make a habit of taking Liora to the office and if ever, she usually was down in the lab where they had established somewhat of a <em>'kids emergency area'<em> in the forensic specialist's office. But he couldn't deny enjoying having his little girl so close.

Once again McGee found himself stare down at his daughter sleeping next to his desk, his fingers stilling on the keyboard. One of her hands was clasped over her face as if hiding from the overhead lights. A smile crept onto his face. Suddenly, his phone started blinking. He quickly reached for it before it could resound with that shrill jingling.

"Special Agent McGee", he said more quietly than usual.

"It's me, Timmy", Abby's voice greeted back on the other end. "How's our angel?"

McGee took another glimpse at the two-year-old. He smiled. "Sleeping like one."

"Aww…", Abby cooed, swept up by the adorable images of her daughter in dreamland. Not losing that sound of reverence in her voice, she quipped, "She's so gonna keep us awake till three in the morning."

McGee chuckled. "Probably."

"Listen, do you have a minute to come down to the lab? I kinda need a second pair of hands for a particularly willful encryption."

"Sure. Be right down."

"Thanks, Timmy. Give her a kiss from me."

They hung up. McGee's eyes roamed the office. It was late in the afternoon and none of the cubicles were occupied anymore. The other response team had been called out on a possible case an hour earlier. And the last time he had seen Ziva she was on her way to MTAC. He looked down at Liora. She looked too perfect to be jerked from her dreams. He could have dragged her along or taken her upstairs, but he wasn't a fan of those options either. Figuring that where there was no one, nothing could happen to his daughter even if he slipped out for a moment, and figuring that Ziva would return any minute now, he bent down to plant a soft kiss on Liora's forehead. Then he left the bullpen.

Five minutes later the elevator opened with the familiar ding. Out stepped Tony with Tali, who was holding onto his hand. He was mumbling indiscernibly under his breath. He stopped over at the bullpen, taking a swift glance around and finding no one there. Liora was hidden from his view behind McGee's desk and chair. He lifted Tali up onto Ziva's chair and crouched down in front of her.

"Daddy's gonna go upstairs and sign a report for Director Vance that obviously couldn't have waited another day", Tony explained, trying to edge out the disdain from creeping into his voice. "You stay here, okay?"

"Wanna go with", Tali exclaimed excitedly.

Tony scowled. "Tali, princess, I told you it would be a short trip and that you couldn't come upstairs with me. You still wanted to come along."

After getting the call from Cynthia about the urgency of his damn signature, Tony had spent half an hour trying to convince Tali to stay home with David and their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Travis. The sixty-year-old widow from next door had become somewhat of a last resort over the years, but she at least gave both Tony and Ziva the feeling that she didn't mind watching the kids. And the kids were big aficionados of her cooking and baking anyway.

"You said we visit mommy and Uncle M'Gee."

"I'm sure they'll be back in a minute", Tony assured her. "Can you please wait here for them?"

"'kay, daddy." Tali nodded dutifully.

"Thanks, princess. Be right back." He leaned up and planted a kiss on her forehead, then turned and rushed upstairs to Vance's office.

For a while Tali took to merry-go-round-herself with Ziva's chair, when she was suddenly jerked out of her game by the sound of soft whimpering. She stopped. The whimpering got louder - and it came from her Uncle McGee's desk. Sporting an inquisitive scowl Tali slipped down from the chair and meandered across the bullpen.

"Liora", she called out as her auburn eyes fell onto her cousin. The two-year-old was sitting up on the blanket by McGee's desk, rubbing her eyes. There were obvious tears threatening to fall.

"Tawi", Liora murmured, still looking around for a parental face and arms to pick her up.

Tali walked over to her cousin-of-choice and kneeled down next to her. She reached out gently and wiped a tear from Liora's cheek the way her mommy always did with her. "Don't cry."

"No d'ere."

For some reason, Tali usually knew exactly what Liora was talking about, even though her sentences were far from discernable for anyone but Abby and McGee most of the time. Tali merely nodded her head. "My daddy said they'll come back real soon."

"Mama?", Liora asked hopefully.

"Auntie Abby's workin' down there." Tali pointed to the floor, knowing from previous experience that her Auntie's lab was somewhere beneath the bullpen.

"Wanna go mama", the two-year-old demanded forcefully, pushing herself up.

"But my daddy said I hafta stay here", Tali reasoned, giving her cousin's hand a little pull.

However, upon seeing the tears brimming in Liora's eyes again, she heaved a heartfelt sigh. She got up herself and held out her hand to Liora. Her parents always held her hand as well, because she was still little, so she figured that Liora was littler than she was and that she had to take her hand. Liora's face brightened up with a smile and she slipped her hand into Tali's. Together they crept around McGee's desk. Tali took a look around for orientation reasons and then decided for the elevator at the back.

A few minutes later the bullpen started resounding with voices as Tony, Ziva, McGee and Abby were coming down the stairs from the walkway. Tony was lamenting to Ziva about the report and his signature-shortcomings in answer to her surprised question on his late office appearance. After McGee and Abby had cracked the access codes to a closed-off computer network, they had been MTAC-bound so as to explain its functions to the requesting foreign agency, Ziva doing the translation.

"…so I left Tali at your desk and signed his oh-so urgent papers", Tony ended, this time not bothering to conceal his obvious annoyance with Vance's insistence.

"Tali? You took Tali with you?", Ziva inquired, her eyebrows rising.

Tony rolled his eyes. "She wanted to visit you and wouldn't let me leave her with Mrs. Travis-"

"Then where is she?", Ziva inquired, arriving in the bullpen to find it empty.

"Wha- I left her right here at your desk", Tony answered, leaping behind the desk to look for his daughter. "Tali?"

"Tali?", Ziva called out, stepping around the orange partitions to canvass the rest of the squadroom.

"Tali's gone?", McGee asked in surprise, arriving in the bullpen with Abby by his side.

Tony had just dived behind his own desk. "Yes."

"You left her down here alone?", Abby exclaimed.

"I was only gone for a _second_. I didn't know all of you were huddled up in MTAC", he growled, giving up his search of the bullpen. He straightened up and saw Ziva briskly striding back towards them. Her eyes were narrowed and her face expressionless. He winced inwardly.

"Is she here?", she almost barked.

"No, but-"

"Wait, you just looked around the whole squadroom, right?", McGee broke Tony off. He had rounded his desk to look for Tali and now he stood, rooted to the floor, staring at the yellow blanket that lay there disheveled and empty.

"Yes", Ziva answered impatiently.

"Ahm… Abby, did you take Liora upstairs?", he asked quietly, turning to his wife standing in the middle of the bullpen.

"No…"

McGee's stomach dropped. "Then we might have the same problem here…"

"You lost our daughter?", Abby screeched, jumping as quickly as her shoes would allow behind McGee's desk to see for herself.

"I don't know. When I left she was still sleeping-"

Abby's eyes widened. "And so you left our _two-year-old_ in the _empty_ office with _no one_ there to watch her?"

"At the time it- it seemed like a safe plan-"

"Safe plan?", Abby cried out, her eyes tearing holes into his. "Where is she?"

Tony was about to open his mouth, but was quickly cut off by Ziva's glare. "You two just lost our daughters in successive order", she asserted, her tone so calm and low it caused Tony's already nervously racing heart to kick it up another notch.

"Look, mommies, they can't be far anyway. They gotta be around here somewhere, they can't leave", he reasoned, hoping so much to be right.

"What the hell were you thinking leaving her alone?", Ziva snapped, her eyes narrowing even more.

"Well?", Abby joined in, looking at McGee with the kind of expressive anger he hadn't often seen on her face before.

Tony's mouth opened and closed. He cleared his throat. "Nothing, okay. I thought you'd be right back. What was I supposed to do? Vance wanted-"

"You could have taken her upstairs with you, left her with Cynthia-"

"I wasn't thinking", McGee said softly, dreading every minute that was trickling by. "I'm sorry, she was sleeping-"

"Enough", Tony cut in, straightening up. "You can tear us to shreds later. We gotta find them." He turned towards his partner. "Tali can operate an elevator, can't she?"

"Yes…", Ziva affirmed slowly.

"They probably went on a little adventure together", Tony reasoned, receiving glares from both women. He quickly decided to go on with his plan-of-action. "McGee, you take the subbasement. I'll take autopsy and the evidence garage. Abby and Ziva, you look around the lab, Interrogation, Observation, showers…you know, the whole maze down there."

"What about the other floors?", McGee cut in.

A small smile darted across Tony's features. "The fire doors leading to the stairs are way too heavy for either Tali or Liora to open. And Tali can work an elevator, Tim, but she can only reach the lowest three buttons."

With that they disbanded, taking different flights of stairs in their state of urgency. On their way Ziva and Abby passed Ian Johnston, who was evidently spending the night again. They disregarded his salutation with curt nods, continuing on their quest. When they had searched every corner on the floor the lab was on, Ziva and Abby met up in the hallway by the elevator.

"No luck?", Abby asked, her voice betraying her expression, sounding every bit like the feeling of terror in her stomach.

Ziva shook her head, her jaw clenched. A part of her wanted to redeem the cliché and throw around threats to Tony's health and well-being, but she was feeling too much worry, too much panic to formulate a sentence. Glancing up she saw her own feelings reflected in Abby's eyes. She was just about to open her mouth, when the elevator doors shifted open.

"Mama!", Liora called out, letting go of Tali's hand. Abby whirled around just in time to catch her daughter and to sweep her up into her arms. She showered the two-year-old with kisses, holding her close.

"Tali", Ziva exhaled, kneeling down to engulf the five-year-old in a hug as she ran over to her. "Baruch Hashem…" She wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter, her breaths of relief losing themselves in Tali's curls.

"Ziva, we didn't-", came Tony's voice from around the corner as he and McGee sprinted down the stairs. However, when his eyes fell onto his daughter safely enveloped in her mother's arms, he felt the weight of dread fall from his shoulders. He leapt forward and got down on the floor next to them, kissing his daughter's forehead. "Tali, thank God."

"See, Liora, we found them", Tali beamed up at her cousin, who was now smothered with kisses by McGee. He was sporting the same look of guilt-relief as Tony.

Liora nodded brightly, settling into her father's arms.

"Where were you?", Abby inquired curiously, standing next to McGee and absently caressing Liora's cheek.

"We gone lookin' for you", Tali answered matter-of-factly. "Liora woke'd up and wanted to see ya."

"But didn't I tell you to wait at your mom's desk?", Tony cut in, raising his eyebrows at his daughter.

Instantly, the smile on Tali's face faded. She looked from one parent to the other and both were looking at her sternly - the look they gave her when she had done something wrong.

"We were very worried about you, tateleh. You cannot just leave like that", Ziva explained, brushing a few strands of hair from her daughter's face.

"We have to know where you are, princess. Running around on your own like that can be really dangerous."

"Sowwy", Tali said quietly.

"It's okay, nothing happened this time." Tony smiled at her.

"But you will remember this for next time, yes?", Ziva reinforced pointedly, her eyebrows rising.

"Yes, mommy", Tali assured them, resting her head against Ziva's shoulder as they got up from the floor.

"So, where have you been all this time?", McGee asked.

"Here…", Tali answered evenly. "But Auntie Abby was no here. Then we went up and the nice man said go back down here."

The adults shared looks of bewilderment. Ziva tilted her head to meet her daughter's eyes. "What nice man, tateleh?"

"I donno."

"Director Vance?", Abby tried.

Tali shook her head decidedly, knowing right well what her parents' boss-boss looked like.

Suddenly it dawned on Tony. "Sweetheart, did he have hair as dark as mommy's?"

Tali scrunched her face up in consideration but then nodded her head. "And whisk'es like you daddy 'n Sunday." She reached out to touch Tony's cheeks with both of her hands.

Tony took her hands in his and kissed them. "Good job remembering them, princess."

"Johnston?", McGee asked.

Tony nodded.

"Well, I'm just glad we have our girls back. I say we call it a night", Abby proclaimed, smiling at Liora.

* * *

><p>Tony and Tali were already waiting for her down in the car. Ziva had only returned to the bullpen to leave a note for herself and gather up her things. She was waiting for the front elevator, its doors finally shifting open just as her eyes fell on the figure passing the hallway to her right. She quickly threw her backpack over her shoulder and went after him. When she rounded the corner, she called out, "Mr. Johnston?"<p>

He immediately skidded to a halt. He remembered that voice well. He turned around to face her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Agent David", he returned in surprise. "Fancy seeing you in an empty hallway."

Her eyes narrowed, but the edges of her mouth slightly slipped upwards. "Thank you", she said softly.

He threw his head back in confusion. "You're welcome?"

"Thank you for telling the girls where we were", she elucidated.

He grinned pointedly, nodding along. "So, there _is_ offspring."

Ziva chuckled despite herself. "Yes."

"Both yours?"

"No, only the older one", Ziva answered, pride creeping into her voice. "The other one was Agent McGee's. The girl you used to push his…_buttons_…with, yes?"

A quiet _'Ha'_ slipped from Johnston's lips. "Beautiful little girls. Your daughter has a lot of you in her."

Ziva merely smiled.

Johnston nodded. "I am sure your family is waiting then. Goodnight, Agent David." With that and a last smile he turned around and left.

Ziva sighed. He was right, they were. She turned and left as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Review?<strong>


	8. Kubrick Orange

Back with an update. This is not a chapter per se, but I intend to work different timelines into this story like I did with its predecessor - just going to be a bit different this time around, though. As for this scene: I want to give you a bit of (non-chronological) **backstory** on how Tony and Ziva came to be, tying in with canon. Hope you enjoy that tidbit.

The following dialogue _in italics_ is taken from **Episode 8x07|Broken Arrow** - not claiming anything.

* * *

><p><em>[Ziva enters bullpen] McGee! Look what was waiting for me when I got home last night.<em>

_Your passport?_

_My United States of America passport._

_Ziva, congratulations. That's great. Can I peek?_

_Yeah._

_See, this is unfair. No one's passport photo should look this good._

_You think?_

_Yeah. Where'd you have it taken? A photo studio?_

_No, a booth at the post office._

_[Tony enters] Hey, Tony, look what Ziva got!_

_Congratulations, I'll alert the media._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 6 Intermezzo - 1<br>**_or: Kubrick Orange_

_October 2010_

Ziva didn't usually get a lot of visitors. She had been living a very low-profile life ever since returning from Somalia. Getting the apartment had been one of the first things she had done about sorting out her life post-torture - apart from spending a little emotional fortune on the silver _Magen David _pendant dangling from her neck - and only few people actually knew where she lived now. It had been about a year since NCIS had rescued her, a year since the torture had ended - physically. Her injuries had healed, her therapy had been concluded an overall success and her NCIS-status was en route. Other than that, however, she still went back to that camp and to her past every night. She was currently sitting at the small kitchen table reviewing some field notes and preparing for her upcoming undercover job, when buzzing at the door switched her senses to _'full alert'_. McGee had been kind enough to install a small wide-angle camera above the door and connect it to the intercom. Ziva was surprised to find Tony standing there, looking directly at it. After all, he knew it was there - he had helped put it up. Ziva quickly opened both locks on the door, her eyes narrowed inquisitively.

"I'm sorry I was an idiot today", Tony started immediately, not allowing her mouth to open first.

Ziva was positively stunned, and that didn't happen often. They were in the middle of a case, Tony's dad was in town and mixed up in its messy intrigue - he had enough on his plate right now, too much to be standing in her doorframe and looking at her apologetically.

Without waiting for her stun to wear off, he handed her an US-American flag, neatly folded, a small box and three DVDs. "I just wanted you to know that I _do_ care about you getting your passport and that no matter my American-Dream-babble that I think you deserve it and we're lucky to have you… _I'm lucky..._to have you", he continued, his voice even and sincere. "So, as a kind of initiation gift I got you a flag with a manual on getting that nice triangle. Apple pie…which I didn't make myself but bought…by myself. And an American collection: You got your _Godfather One_ and _Two _for- for making it big, your _Citizen Kane_ for keeping it light and _It's a Wonderful Life_ for perspective…and because it should be mandatory for each household to have a copy of that. And I'll get you _Taxi Driver_ for when your probation's over, I promise."

Ziva held onto his offhand presents, staring at him. This was nothing she would have ever expected. Sure, he had been to her apartment/s before, and sure, he had given her presents for the occasional occasion, but this was different. They had only recently arrived at a somewhat normal routine post-Somalia. In point of fact, they had only recently arrived back at a level of friendship both of them had deemed lost. Maybe, though, it was more friendship than they had ever had before, the kind of deep trust they had experienced glimpses of during their assignment in Paris.

Tony's expression froze a little upon her lack of reaction. "Well, I… I just wanted to give you that…", he stammered, his eyes darting between her empty stare and the items in her arms. "And apologize, which I did and now… I'm- I'm off."

"Do you want to come in?", she blurted out suddenly, stopping him from turning around.

His brows furrowed. "Do I?"

A soft smile formed on Ziva's face. "I know how deeply your love for the Corleone family goes."

"You already know the movie", Tony concluded, actually sounding a little disappointed.

Ziva chuckled, slightly shaking her head. "You realize that many of your movies were books first, yes?"

Tony smiled. "Rumor has it."

"Besides…", a playfully seductive tone mingled in with the evenness of her voice, "I just ate dinner and we would not want a perfectly edible pie to go to waste."

"Sure…", Tony returned softly, slipping out of his coat on his way inside. "I'll have some pie."

* * *

><p><strong>Review. Please.<strong>


	9. Tickling the Bomb

**Thank you **for the overall positive feedback on the last chapter - I'm glad you like the idea of passing on some 'backstory'. For that I have a few tidbits worked into the narrative of the main story, but if there is some particular instance about their past you would like to know about and would like me to write a chapter on, please do not hesitate to furnish me with **prompts**!

Also, I want to give a **shout-out** to the people still taking the time to leave a review on _"Now a' is done"_. I am wholeheartedly grateful and glad that you enjoy the prequel - and I hope you guys are still enjoying the sequel just as much and maybe even more.

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 9 Tickling the Bomb<strong>

"There is nothing we are particularly good at doing apart from interrogating and shooting people", Ziva hissed, violently throwing on a pair of jeans. They were standing in the bathroom, their exclusive and semi-intimate place for discussion and brainstorming in the morning. Tony was shaving, trying not to smile in fear of cutting himself.

"You're exaggerating", Tony countered calmly. "Between the interrogating and shooting there's the finding and catching."

"_You_…are not helping." He watched in the mirror as Ziva's eyes narrowed, turning in time to see her shake her head. "I hate those meetings. Why can _you_ not go?"

Tony chuckled. "Because it's your turn", he stated, drying his face. "And because those meetings do something to your brain and I need all my marbles lined up right now."

"And I do not?", Ziva exclaimed, pushing him a little to the side for access to the mirror so as to apply her make-up.

"You're better at blocking them out."

"They like _you_ better."

"Maybe that's because you threatened to shoot Betty Wilson last month?", Tony suggested, buttoning up his shirt with a meaningful grin.

Ziva whirled around, a look of determined righteousness in her eyes. "She was telling me…for the _fifth_ time that children of parents with violent jobs are ten times more likely to turn to violent measures in later life... _Five_ times, Tony."

Tony stepped up to her and put his hands on her upper arms, kissing her forehead. "And no one understands the shooting urge more than me, Sweet Cheeks, but you might wanna go for the charm offensive this time."

"How? I have nothing to offer", Ziva lamented, turning back around for the finishing touches on her face. For some reason she felt particularly self-conscious about the amount of make-up today.

Tony smiled softly, resting his chin on her shoulder and slinging his arms around her middle. "_You_ offer more than any of the other moms. You're the whole mommy'n'gunny package."

"That is it exactly, Tony."

"Can't you, I don't know…like knit the costumes?"

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. "I don't know. Can you?"

Tony smiled. "Cook. You're a great chef."

"I doubt they will need cooking at a school play." A sly smile had formed on Ziva's face.

"Then you'll manage the ticket sale. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

"I do not want Tali to-"

Tony broke her off with a kiss, smiling against her lips. "She won't care what you do. The only thing she cares about is that we're there to watch her perform and we will be. And the smile on our little girl's face will be worth not having to get rid of Betty Wilson's body."

Ziva sighed but nodded with a small smile. Tony grabbed his jacket and turned around, mumbling something about preparing breakfast. He was stopped in the door by Ziva sly remark, "No guarantees."

Tony nodded, a grin settling on his lips. "At least spare me some paperwork and take your non-issue backup."

* * *

><p>That Friday was much different from their usual Fridays. Abby had insisted on Liora-duty, even though Fridays usually were McGee's mornings with his daughter before he handed her over to Cameron for the rest of the day until their - generally simultaneous - homecoming. McGee treasured that hour alone with his daughter, but he realized that Abby was experiencing a bout of more or less irrational clinginess right now. However, what with all the worrying scenarios playing in his head every unoccupied minute, he didn't feel like fighting Abby on wanting to spend more time with Liora. They had set up a meeting with whomever claimed to be Liora's biological father for the upcoming week - they would take it step by step.<p>

On the other side of the bullpen Tony had traded early mornings with Ziva so that she could attend the PTA-meeting at Tali's preschool. He knew just how much she hated those and if their bathroom-banter had been any indication, that was still a well-established fact. Much had changed about the Ziva he had met a few feet from where he was standing right now over fifteen years ago. Somalia had played a prime part in most of that change, but her affiliation with all of NCIS, their romance and more than anything their children had contributed their transforming share. What hadn't changed was the rift between who Ziva was in the course of her job and who she was outside of it. She had learned to deal with all kinds of people through her work as an NCIS Agent, but she still had a particularly hard time relating to and fitting in with the PTA-crowd. As far as Tony saw it, what with it being about their kids, Ziva was simply too emotionally invested to treat those people with the same sense of analytical detachedness she would one of their cases and the people involved in it. Ziva had a background so far removed from most of the parents in Tali's and David's schools it was particularly hard for her to identify with or to fathom their outlook on life, their kids and everything around that. But that's what Tony admired about her, how much she still tried to adapt - and how strangely impossible it was for her to shake her innermost self no matter what.

A small smile dashed across Tony's face at the thought of his certified ninja in a lopsided hand-to-hand with Betty Wilson. The smile quickly vanished when McGee turned up by his side, scoffing at the sight in front of them. They were looking at the big plasma in the middle of the bullpen, surveying the live feed of _Interrogation Room II_ and their current and very much human _Matryoshka_ doll. They could hardly believe their eyes. Ian Johnston was lying on top of the table on his back, his hands neatly folded atop his body and his face smiling broadly and contently. He looked, to engage a cliché, completely at peace.

"We bumped into each other on my way up from the lab this morning", McGee remarked, not taking his eyes off the screen. "He was coming out of the shower rooms, humming. He even greeted me like he'd never even tried to bite my head off."

For a moment Tony was silent, watching the rhythmical heaving of Johnson's torso. Then, suddenly, he cried out, "Can we please go back to the sex talk on Monday morning and someone tie me down and gag me before I can answer the phone?"

McGee turned to look at him with an apparent scowl. "You realize there's an irritating pun in there, right?"

"I hate this guy", Tony continued and pointed at the screen, not paying attention to McGee's irritation. "He's like PMS'ing up and down the emotional barometer. First he's denying he said anything at all, then he's pissed as hell we locked him up even though he'd sure be better off locked up in a padded round tower. _Then_…he's negotiating terms with Ziva only a few _seconds_ before breaking down in tears. And now he's totally okay with the world like he's on meth or something. I mean-" Tony suddenly broke off when he saw the dawn of realization on McGee's face. "What?"

"I can't believe I didn't _see_ it sooner."

"See what, McCryptic?"

"It, I mean _him_", McGee struggled, pointing towards the screen. "Johnston. It's obvious."

Tony turned back to look at the man onscreen, screwing his forehead up in a scowl. "I'm having a blonde day here. Just spit it out already!"

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance", McGee summarized Tony's earlier account. "The Kübler-Ross model."

"You lost me."

McGee huffed and sprinted over to his computer. He knocked a few letters into his keyboard and turned the screen around for Tony to see. It was a webpage with information on something titled the _'Kübler-Ross model'_.

"The Five Stages of Grief, Tony", McGee explained, a note of glee ringing through. "Johnston isn't making any sense because it's not what he's telling us that's important. It's _how_ he does it."

"So, you mean he's been _enacting_ this model?", Tony countered, not entirely convinced.

"That's the information he was talking about."

"A model for the process of coping?"

McGee nodded. "For people with terminal illnesses."

Tony's eyes widened. "He's dying", he conceded. "_He_ is the case."

* * *

><p>Tony entered <em>Interrogation II<em> with Ziva by his side. While she took a stand by the mirror, her eyes trained skeptically on Ian Johnston's peaceful features, Tony sat down in the chair across from him. Unblinking, he declared, "You're the case. Somebody killed you."

"And there I was hoping for the Shakespearean dying scene", Johnston mock-sighed, his eyes rolling up to meet Ziva's.

Suddenly, Tony smashed his palms onto the table top, audibly yanking Johnston back into an upright position, his blue eyes immediately settling on the agent in front of him. "We played along for the longest time", Tony growled. "You had your fun. Now tell us what you know."

"Actually…", Johnston started. "I don't know much."

"We will be the judge of that", Ziva cut in.

Johnston nodded slowly. He bent down and took off his left shoe, a brown leather boot, while Tony and Ziva were left to stare at him in bewilderment. He turned the shoe around and started fumbling with its heel until he suddenly produced a miniscule computer chip, which he offered to Tony. Tony eyed the diminutive piece of highly condensed data suspiciously. "Shouldn't our ever so sensitive scanners have picked up on that little gadget of yours when you entered the building?", he inquired.

Johnston smiled slyly. "I helped design and program those scanners. You think I don't know how to cheat 'em?"

Tony nodded slowly and retrieved a small evidence bag from inside his jacket pocket (an old habit). Johnston let the chip drop into the bag and watched, an indiscernible expression on his face, as Tony sealed it. "What's on it?"

"Actually, I don't really know. After a while I was just saving data without the time to review it, but I'm sure your Agent McGee will know what to do", Johnston stated, putting his shoe back on.

"Give us an idea, will you?"

"I think it was December last year or January. I picked up on some unusual chatter on one of our more recent channels."

"Channels?"

Johnston smiled benevolently. "If you're a bad, bad guy and you wanna do bad, bad things you're just as dependent on good networking as everyone else. You need arms, you look for the right arms dealer. You need someone dealt with, you look for the right hitman...or hit_woman_." He vaguely winked at Ziva. "If you need to go somewhere below the radar, you set up means for transportation. Wrong-doing is a global market, Agent DiNozzo. Channels is what we call whichever system of communicating those demand-and-supply-chains they choose. The more channels we disclose without the bad guys knowing about it, the better for us good guys."

"You're cast as the good guy then?"

"Never once recast."

"So..?"

"So, I was monitoring a channel we had just disclosed through an international consortium." Johnston's eyes quickly darted towards Ziva again. "And there I picked up on a guy named Arik setting up illegal access to the U.S. for himself and a bunch of others. I tracked them for some time, before they backtracked me-"

"They made you? I thought you guys can't be traced."

Johnston huffed in a mixture of amusement and a soft sigh. "In truth, everything can be traced somehow. But as a government official I'm protected by the fact that I am, essentially, the government doing its job", he elucidated calmly. "The government is bound to a certain degree of..._lawful_ operation, though. So, for singular purposes…I was known to do a little…freelancing."

Tony's and Ziva's eyebrows rose almost simultaneously. "You worked on it outside the grid", Tony clarified.

Johnston nodded. "I guess, I got a little too eager, didn't cover all of my bases."

"And now you're…dying?", Tony asked evenly.

"Diagnosed last February", Johnston answered just as evenly. "No one could tell me what exactly was doing this to me, but it's like this: No organ in my body is working the way it should be working any more. I'm on pain meds to make it easier, but…at one point my heart will just give out and that's that."

"What about your family?", Ziva cut in, a softer ring to her voice.

"I never married, never spawned. Only child. My parents are long dead. I left everything to an uncle in Iowa, talked to him too…a few weeks ago. Everything's settled."

"And you think you were poisoned?"

"No, Agent David", Johnston declared with a small smile, "I _know_ I was poisoned."

"How?"

"They told me."

"How?"

Johnston sighed. "One fine day I come home and find a postcard on my doorstep with some scavenger bird or meerkat on it, I can't really remember. It was saying, in _really_ neat handwriting by the way, something to the effect of _'Keep your mouth shut or you'll die'_. Naturally, I didn't stop, though. Then I started feeling a little queasy, but I brushed it aside as good old psychosomatics. When I started throwing up blood, though, I finally went to see my doctor and well… The rest is history, as they say."

"That's when you decided to come here?"

"Well, first I got my afterlife in order, _then_ I came here", Johnston corrected. "But yeah, I figured I was dying anyway, so I could at least find someone who would kill those bastards for me. I'm Navy, you're Navy cops. Came naturally, I guess."

"Why didn't you just tell us? Why go for the dramatics?", Tony growled, leaning back in his chair.

"I'm a dying man, man. Let me have a little fun before I kick the bucket."

Tony was momentarily thrown by the wording. He faintly remembered the ominous bucket-list he once started assembling during a particulary trying case - one of those _mortality-in-your-face_ cases back in 2011. He remembered getting to No. 9 before Ziva had caught him. He remembered her giving him that look of dire understanding and while he had concentrated on her, she had, with the flick of a finger, simply deleted the list. He remembered her touching the side of his face and telling him that he'd better focus on making the moments he had count than counting down moments he hadn't yet had.

Ziva recognized the split-blank expression on Tony's face. She substituted quickly, "And why did you not report to your superiors about it?"

"So they could do what exactly?", Johnston challenged with raised eyebrows. "Send the memo through the ranks until, with a little bit of luck, it would reach someone who would actually give a crap and have enough power to do something about it?"

"That's kind of the protocol way to do it", Tony argued.

"Right. I'd be fertilizer by then", Johnston deadpanned. "This way I didn't only get the memo across, I also got to wave my pompoms and do a little yuppie dance routine to really get it to sink in."

"You're nuts."

"With chocolate icing."

Tony and Ziva couldn't keep the edges of their mouths from drifting upwards a little bit. "Weren't you worried they'd realize what you're doing and speed up the process a little?"

"I guess they thought an IT geek wouldn't have the guts to do what I did. And other than that: Did you ever see me actually leave this building? I'm safer here than anywhere else."

"This is not Fort Knox", Ziva reasoned, her reference earning her a slight smile from Tony.

"Yeah, but I'm guessing what they're really after is more important than plugging every leak."

"And what's that?"

"That's for you to find out. I only got you going. I'm actually a little sorry I will be too dead to see them dying." He cocked his head to the side a little, a thin smile settling on his face.

Ziva and Tony remained silent.

"Wanna know what's the ultimate kicker here?", Johnston asked, the smile persisting. "That I'll be basically poisoning my own body from the inside out because I was poisoned from the outside in. Funny, isn't it?"

"Obliquely…", Ziva said.

* * *

><p>Tony, entering the lab alongside Ziva, called out, "Give it to me, my tech-match."<p>

McGee immediately looked up from his typing. "Johnston's story checked out. He recently updated his will and took a trip to Iowa three weeks ago: plane ticket, rental, comp time. I also tracked down his presumed uncle, but he's more like a longtime family friend than blood-related, an old school friend of his father's. When I called him, he confirmed that Johnston had visited and told him about the will… Just that he thought the government was sending Johnston abroad on a highly classified mission." McGee ended his rapport with a soft scowl.

"For claiming to be the good guy, he sure has a troubled relationship with the truth, doesn't he?", Tony quipped.

"That's not the real trouble, Tony", Abby cut in, pointing towards the myriad of screens, figures and symbols filling up all of her computers. "Johnston must've followed that Arik guy's movements for months. There's like two terabyte of information on the microchip Johnston gave you."

"A lot of it is taken up by the encryptions he integrated, though."

"Meaning it will take some time to get to the information to begin with?", Ziva inquired.

McGee shook his head. "It's pretty heavy stuff, but Johnston gave us the basic lock codes, so we should be fine."

"So, what kinda intel are we talking about anyway?", Tony asked, rounding the table and peeking through the gap between the computers from the other side.

"IP-tracking serials, GPS data, a bunch of files", McGee answered, looking between Ziva and Tony. "The moment Johnston got a fix on Arik, he infested his computer with a kind of tracking virus through his IP number. As long as that connection held, Johnston could easily and automatically extract information from Arik's computer. He also monitored communication directly via Arik's provider, so it didn't matter if Arik logged onto a different computer."

"To maintain that connection and at the same time keep your cover, your own data packages need to oscillate between parameters, though." Abby instantly took notice of Tony's and Ziva's eyebrows rising almost simultaneously and put on a knowing smile. "The data you're automatically sending to the computer you're connected with mustn't be re-traceable. That's what jumping around on servers is for…more or less."

"And that's also what Johnston got careless with", McGee substituted.

"That is why Arik found him."

"Arik and friends, actually", Abby corrected, furrowing her brows.

"At the beginning Johnston took the time to review the data he was gathering and packed it into a separate file we're almost done downloading", McGee explained.

"And in the messages we've seen thus far, Arik is definitely referring to himself as _'we' _and _'us'_."

Tony nodded. "Any chance at finding out who that Arik guy is-"

"If that is his real name", Ziva put in.

A soft smile formed on Abby's face. She tilted her head to the side, holding up her hands for emphasis. "If there's any indication to him on there-"

"We will", McGee concluded knowingly.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon Tali plopped down on the small, milky brown wooden bench across from the big shelving unit, which was taking up most of the wall of the corridor outside her classroom, and which was made up of diversely colored cubicles. One of them, a yellow cubicle, was tagged <em>'Tali'<em> with a brightly yellow, five-pointed star next to the neat calligraphy. Ziva quickly pocketed her car keys, retrieved Tali's shoes from that cubicle and crouched down in front of her daughter.

From the moment on Ziva had routinely inquired about her day the little girl had been happily chatting away about its details and more or less profound events. "And you know what Judy said?", she posed eventually, her breath almost catching in her throat at the last syllable.

Ziva looked up from tying Tali's right shoe to find the little girl's appalled expression - an expression so heartfelt, it made it hard not to smile. "What did she say?", Ziva asked with exaggerated intrigue lacing her voice.

"She say that boats get made only on water but that's no true", Tali recounted, scrunching her forehead up in a deep scowl. "My Uncle Gibbs makes all of his boats in his house, right?"

"Yes, that he does." Ziva smiled up at her, starting to tie the second shoe.

"So, I tell her and that Deed and me help him make his boats lotsa times and one boat had my name on it", Tali declared.

"And what did Judy say to that?", Ziva asked. She got up and lifted Tali off the bench, getting her coat from her cubicle and holding it out for the little girl to slip into.

"She- She said that- that house-boats can't swim right, but then I say- I said that's no true again, 'cause my Uncle Gibbs and my Uncle Ducky are takin' a swim with his boat 'bout now." Tali put extra emphasis on the last word, thoroughly out of breath at the end of the sentence.

Ziva kneeled down in front of her daughter so as to zip up her coat. She quickly looked up at her, curious. "Did Judy believe you then?"

Tali shook her head degradedly. "Nope. She said I make it all up, but- but it's all true, right mommy?"

"Yes, tateleh, absolutely true."

In fact, Gibbs and Ducky had sailed Gibbs' most recent woodwork-endeavor up the East Coast, from where on Ducky had left for a longer trip to his native Scotland, visiting a myriad of old friends and far-removed relatives. He had planned on it being a two-month trip, but by now three months had passed since their departure and he was still writing postcards and e-mails detailing his past and outlining his future travel plans. They currently had a $100 pool running on how long his trip would ultimately last. Gibbs, on the other hand, they were pretty clueless about. As far as they knew he was still on his boat somewhere, he never really specified the _where_. He made his obligatory call every two weeks, mostly to Abby, and she would routinely trace his call back to some godforsaken place somewhere between the U.S. and Canada. The kids were receiving their share of postcards, though, of that he had made a strangely sweet habit.

"Can I take the picture of me and Uncle Gibbs and my boat to school 'morrow, mommy?", Tali suggested, her eyes brightening with the quintessential idea to prove herself in front of her friend.

Ziva chuckled at the utter determination written on her daughter's face. "Yes, you may."

"Ziva?", a familiar, somewhat shrill voice jerked mother and daughter from their line of conversation and caused Ziva, still kneeling before Tali, to whirl around.

"Betty", Ziva returned vaguely, putting on a smile and getting up to shake the other woman's hand.

Ziva had been acutely aware of the risk of getting mom-cornered, but Tony had still been up in MTAC with Director Vance, briefing him on the turn of events in the Johnston case - or rather, on it having finally turned into a substantial case for that matter. So, she had left to pick up Tali and Tony would then pick up David from soccer practice in an hour.

"Hey there, little Tali", the woman named Betty called out sweetly. Tali merely waved her hand, a quiet _'Hi'_ slipping from her lips as she leaned against Ziva's leg.

Ziva put an arm around her daughter. For some reason Betty Wilson always made Tali feel uncomfortable and she didn't know why. She did, however, know that her daughter's apprehension was yet another reason not to like that woman. Call it self-fulfilling instinct.

"I heard you're catering at the play. I didn't know you cook." Betty turned her attention back to Ziva, smiling away the blatant disbelief in her voice.

"It is more of a hobby", Ziva answered, trying to keep her answers short, to-the-point and respectfully calm.

"Really? That's so great. I wish I could say the same, you know?", Betty said. "I mean, I love to cook, obviously. But it's hard to make it your hobby if you do it day _in_, day _out_. Can't turn into much of a hobby if you have to cook for your family every day, you know. But you don't do that anyway, right?"

Ziva held onto the terse smile on her face. "No, not _every_ day. Tony and I… We take it in turns."

"Wouldn't we all love to have a Tony?" Betty's laugh sounded especially hollow to Ziva's ears. "So, I'll get the list to you as soon as possible."

Ziva's eyes finally narrowed. "What list?"

"The diet list, of course", Betty exclaimed matter-of-factly. "For years I've been assembling all allergies, intolerances and quirks of the kids and their parents. It's turned out to be _so_ helpful."

"_All_…of them?"

"Yeah, I know. And it was as tough a piece of work as it sounds. But I know that some parents can't spare the time to engage more in their kids' schooling, you know. So, some of us try to..._pick_ up the slack with a little extra", Betty elucidated, blinking. "It will give you an idea of the…you know, _range_ you got to consider."

"The range…" Ziva cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows deeply tugged over her eyes.

"I know you're a busy woman, right?" Betty smiled, her eyes briefly rolling upwards. "So, it's really more for time management."

"Of course…", Ziva nodded. "Thank you."

"Oh, don't mention it. We gotta stick together, right? Us moms."

Ziva's eyes swiftly dropped to catch Tali's. The five-year-old was looking up at her, rolling her eyes. She didn't quite understand the content plus subtext of what the woman was saying, but for one thing she caught on to her odd sound of voice, and for another the little girl could tell from the sound of her mother's voice and from the look in her mother's eyes that she didn't like that woman. And as a matter of fact, that was enough for Tali not to like her either.

"And…dads", Ziva added, unable to edge out all of the sardonic ring to her voice.

Betty smiled, her mouth gaping for a moment. "So, Tali's gonna be the star, isn't she?"

"Yes, we are very proud", Ziva answered, instinctively starting to caress Tali's arm. "Tony and she have already started practicing her lines."

"Have they? How sweet", Betty remarked, her eyes jumping between Ziva and the five-year-old's wary expression. "I'm really glad you can make time to help her out a bit. Crime never sleeps, does it?" A sly chuckle escaped Betty's lips.

Ziva's mouth opened in a silent laugh, inwardly heaving a deep breath. "Not as long as people find reasons to commit them."

"I'm sure-"

"Oh, look at the time", Ziva cut in, purposefully eyeing the watch on her wrist. "We have to pick up David from soccer practice."

"Right, I wouldn't wanna hold you any longer."

"No, certainly not", Ziva stated, gently nudging Tali to abandon her leg.

"Was good talking to you, though. We hardly ever get the chance to, you're such a rare treat around here", Betty punctuated her words with soft laughter.

Ziva chuckled slightly. "Yes, really a crime…" She took Tali's hand, shouldered the little girl's backpack and turned to leave.

"See you around."

Ziva nodded with a concise smile, quickening her steps almost unnoticeably until they had closed the front gate between themselves and Betty Wilson. Ziva heaved a sigh, softly shaking her head to get rid of any thoughts pertaining to violent irritation.

"Mommy?" Tali's words eventually yanked her out of her thoughts.

They stopped in front of Ziva's car and she looked down at the five-year-old, slipping on a wholehearted smile. "Yes, tateleh?"

"No liking people is okay. Uncle Gibbs says so too", the little girl declared sincerely, nodding.

Ziva chuckled, opening the door to the back seat for her astute daughter to climb in.

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please.<strong>


	10. Ebbing the Flow

_Hey there! The story's finally arrived in 2012 - and I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you, once again, for your reviews and interest; there's still so much goodness waiting for you in the future of this story and I'm working hard to find the time to put it together more quickly._

_Some serious plot development in this chapter!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 10 Ebbing the Flow<strong>

**Monday, March 22****nd ****2021**

Tony stepped through the array of scanners with an air of remembrance. But it wasn't just Ian Johnston's uncanny way of tossing a case their way that tickled his sense of memory. For some reason, when Tony DiNozzo re-attached the badge to his belt and offered his customary nod to Ed, the security guy, on this unusually spring-y day of late March - for some reason he remembered all those days in the past that he'd been doing the exact same thing. For years now Tony had cultivated the same routine, the same habit of how he entered the Navy Yard building of his career choice. Right then and there it hit him like that bullet a few years back: He was getting on. Strangely enough, however, Tony DiNozzo smiled when the doors of the elevator closed in.

He had finally tied that ribbon around the whole package, finishing it off with a neatly askew bow. He remembered years of feeling hung-over in that same elevator. He remembered minutes spent cursing the upward motion, the way it lifted his sensitive stomach along and almost caused him to hurl into the trashcan of Drew's desk - Drew's was the first desk stepping off the elevator - and on more than one occasion. He remembered years of feeling light-afoot, Ray-Ban rounding off his mood and outfit despite the eerily shrill blue light of the elevator after a night of conquest and victory. His frat days. Days that became years and years that eventually stopped.

More than one occasion, alley and trajectory in his life eventually caused him to grow up: Wendy's off-chance, Gibbs' ways, Kate's demeanor, Probie's dedication, Jeanne's broken heart, killing Rivkin, recoiling in the desert, looking into Senior's mirror, facing pasts with Rachel and eventually: Ziva. Peter Pan and the warrior princess. Both ends of various extremes, it took them years to meet on middle ground. And today Tony DiNozzo smiled, because he had spent his weekend doing laundry after losing a bet to Ziva; teaching his son Elvis-imitations; performing first specks of a play with his daughter; and loving every minute of it - maybe not _every_ minute, but it came close.

That's also why, when the elevator doors re-opened on the designated floor and Tony came face to face with Ian Johnston, he felt like the lucky one of the pair. Johnston was standing there with a small duffle bag slung over his shoulder and flanked by two agents. Tony had arranged for in-house protection over the weekend, but they couldn't keep the whole in-housing up anymore.

A smile graced Tony's lips as he stepped into the squadroom. "Shopping?", he asked, indicating the bag.

Johnston followed his line of vision, his expression gaining some light. "No, actually… Some woman came down today and shoved this at me. It's all necessities, clothes and some more recent IT-journals", he explained, his eyebrows rising decidedly. "Honestly, it was kinda creepy."

Tony merely nodded. "Happy Goth woman?"

"You met her?"

"She's our lab tech, Abby", Tony confirmed, waving him off. "The only angel that could make God listen to Heavy Metal."

"Well, tell her thanks from me… I- I was a little too stunned to before", Johnston smiled. "Kinda quadrupled my earthly possessions with it." At that moment they both knew right well that except for what he was wearing and had been wearing for the past week, Ian Johnston owned nothing else - not anymore.

"Shouldn't have donated _all_ your stuff."

Johnston shook his head, a lopsided smile playing on his lips. "Figured there'd be no use."

Tony smiled, still, but he couldn't help the diminishing radiance no matter what. This was his time with the dead man walking. "You'll be on 24/7 protection detail at an undisclosed safe house", Tony nodded towards the agents to their side, slipping into business-mode. "With a view…per your request."

Johnston chuckled. "A view of a brick wall, I shall hope."

"No, a real one. A park", Tony declared sincerely.

"That's nice… Thanks." Knowing that there was nothing left to say, Johnston stepped around Tony and called the elevator back for the final cutaway.

Tony was just about to leave as well, when a last question came to the fore: the all-time Bucket-List question. "What are you gonna do?"

The elevator doors opened and Johnston held on to a quiet grin. "Drink Tequila Sunrise from dusk till dawn and catch up on all the movies I missed by working the past few years." Then the elevator doors closed.

* * *

><p>Tony stopped over at his desk only to find his most cherished desk-item toppled over after a possible brush-in with a rag or a broom or some similarly shaped cleaning device. He shoved his backpack into the corner and then carefully lifted it back up, returning it to its place of honor: right next to his computer screen, where he could see it. It was a miscellaneous shot and that's exactly why he loved it so much. One night he had arrived back home after a long day's sweating in a particularly stuffy stakeout room only to be greeted by Ziva's gifted reading voice. No wonder the kids hardly ever dosed off throughout, he wouldn't either. So, he had silently crept up the stairs and caught a peek into the master bedroom: and there they were, all three of them tugged beneath a blanket. Ziva was leaning against the headboard, a book in hand, and reading with one kid snuggled into each of her sides. Tony hadn't missed another beat to take the picture: prime Kodak moment in his opinion. And it really had been.<p>

Leaving the memories at their rightful place, he then headed to the back elevator. When he arrived at lab-level, music was blaring but at a more chaste volume than usual - so, McGee was there as well. "What do you got, Abs…and friend?", Tony called out, receiving McGee's brief glare with a knowing smile.

"Arms", the forensic specialist returned quickly, clapping her eyelashes at him.

Tony looked momentarily confused. "Meat puzzle reloaded?"

"Not arms, Tony", Abby corrected, wiggling both her arms. "Arms like…" She pointed both her index fingers into his direction and simultaneously raised both thumbs. A look of realization dawned on Tony's face with a soft _'Ah'_.

"We found the delivery note of an arms deal on one of the first partitions", McGee elucidated, pulling up the itemized list on the plasma while Tony rounded their desk to take a closer look.

"Pretty…extensive", Abby noted cautiously.

"It's mostly small arms, handguns, automatics, small-scale explosives."

"I guess, that rules out selling candy on the list of reasons for coming to the States, right?", Tony quipped. "Anything on use, plans, targets?"

McGee and Abby shook their heads simultaneously and Tony would have found the image of their unison-shaking funny in a way - if it hadn't been so _not_-funny in context, that is. "Vance also had Jimmy use the weekend for all kinds of tests on Johnston."

"I guess, Breena's not too happy-cookie about that", Tony observed, his face contorting in sympathetic wrinkles.

"A whole weekend alone with a toothing Jimmy Jr. Ah…I can _feel_ the love", Abby retorted.

"He find anything?", Tony asked quickly. "By the way Abs, he says thanks for the stuff you got him." Abby merely smiled.

"Didn't find anything that Johnston's doctors hadn't before. His white blood count is practically non-existent", McGee recounted.

"But what I don't get is why poison Johnston slowly to death?"

"Yeah, why not shoot him and get it over with?"

"You don't think a dead Navy officer might have drawn a bit of attention, McBlunt?", Tony returned.

"And other than that… It was not an execution", Ziva added, strolling in from the elevator. "They wanted to punish him for jeopardizing their plans."

"But as far as we know he didn't jeopardize anything yet. We only have bits and pieces", Abby countered.

Tony tilted his head to the side, acknowledging Ziva's welcome presence beside him with a small smile in her direction. "Talking of puzzles…"

"Right. Okay…" Abby took the hint and pulled up another batch of files they had since retrieved.

"We found travel logs and communication transcripts", McGee explained, zooming in on a particular name.

"The _Colona_?", Ziva read, turning around with a questioning gaze.

"An Egyptian freelance freighter. Frequently runs between Egypt and various U.S. ports."

"And?"

"Johnston filed it under_ 'itinerary'_", Abby explained, zooming in on the folder path.

"He must've thought they'd try to get into the country by cargo."

"Where's the _Colona_ at?", Tony asked quickly, stepping closer to the pair and the computers.

"Anchored in Norfolk since Sunday night."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "This Sunday."

Abby shook her head slowly. "Last."

* * *

><p>"So what did Abby say the Captain's name was again?", Tony inquired, stepping out of the car where they were told to find not only the <em>Colona<em>, but also its crew.

"Manzur", Ziva answered, taking a routinized look around.

Tony nodded somewhat sourly. "I know a word that rhymes with that and he better not give us any."

Ziva merely pursed her lips. They were practically encircled by containers and boxes. It really reminded her a lot of the boxed-in incident over seventeen years ago. She glanced over at Tony, finding him smiling mischievously back at her. "What, Tony?"

"Oh, come on! You remember...", he shot back, his smile turning into a full-fledged grin. "You _harbored_ the heat, the sizzling, the burning." By the end of his list, his voice had boiled down to a fleeting whisper close to her ear as they approached their destination.

She hummed a soft chuckle, her eyes narrowing quizzically. "As far as I remember it was _freezing_ in that container…and the only fire almost got us killed."

"Sure, if you wanna go for the physical", Tony scoffed, taking off his glasses so his eyes could lock with hers. "I'm talking metaphysical here, symbolical. It's what it was, what it is-"

"Is and was?", Ziva retorted, her eyebrows heaving. "From the container on it still took us seven years-"

"That's your own fault." Tony turned and squinted his eyes almost shut to get a better look at the men working near the freighter they had just silently identified as the _Colona_.

Ziva's mouth slipped open and she stood back. "My fault? How was that _my_ fault?"

"You didn't invite me to your dinner party back then, remember? Think what could have happened…" Tony's eyes gained an edge of playful nostalgia. Ziva merely relegated her rebuttal to an evident glare. "Why didn't you invite me anyway?"

She briefly cocked her head to the side and then stepped around him, approaching what seemed to be the crew they were looking for. The moment Ziva stepped forward the attitude shifted: shoulders were squared, eyes narrowed, workers sat back on cargo boxes and only a few were left standing. "Captain Manzur?", she inquired off-handedly.

"Who is asking?", a man with a heavy Mid-Eastern accent countered.

"NCIS", Tony clarified as he and Ziva quickly flashed their IDs and badges. "We have some… Mass flow issues to clear up." A fleeting smirk skipped across Tony's face.

Ziva's observant gaze meanwhile caught the silent exchange between some of the ten medium-weight men surrounding them. She lifted her arm to point at the knife she had just detected, strapped to the boot of the heavily accented man. "That is not only a bad idea, but it is a bad idea for more than one reason."

"The least of which is that you'd be violating free-trade treaties", Tony substituted sharply. "I'm sure the list of shenanigans is endless, but we're just here to talk, okay?"

For a moment the air between them sizzled with anticipation, until a pudgy man with a white-red beard stepped forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Since when are Navy cops interested in Egyptian freight?"

"Let's say it's the animated pieces we take a particular interest in", Tony retorted, watching the Captain's antics closely. Ziva meanwhile kept an eye on his backup, surveying the flow of glances and the silent chain of commands.

When Manzur turned around to talk directly to his crew, he did so in Arabic. Tony, recognizing its sound, quickly caught Ziva's eyes. She softly shook her head. "Look, Captain", Tony cut in, his voice disclosing a sense of impatience, "I don't think you're getting the full picture here. We have questions, for which I'm sure you'll have the right answers. And in exchange for that we won't bust your ass."

Ziva didn't allow Manzur to reciprocate in a similar manner before addressing the quintessential issue. "We know you had more than cargo on that ship. Tell us who they were."

Manzur looked between them. He took a slow breath. "Three men, a big one and two of normal height. They paid good money. Cash. I did not ask questions."

"You get a good look at them?", Tony asked.

Manzur shook his head, a few of the men behind him mimicking his move. "They looked like- Like it would not be a good idea for us to remember their faces…if you know what I mean", he answered. "They boarded as freight. I did not see them again after docking here."

"Convenient."

"I am guessing they knew how to get on from here."

Tony locked eyes with Ziva, receiving the same skeptic look he could feel coming on himself. "Good guess."

* * *

><p>Sitting down in the lunch area by the vending machines, Tony couldn't help but remember eleven years ago, when animated cargo brought Eli David, Malachi and Liat for backup and three Palestinian terrorists for showdown to their self-contained shores. After a whole while of subtle courtship Ziva and he had just started dating by then. It had been a piece of privacy they had both been adamant to keep from their immediate surroundings, the team, for the time being. However, Eli, being Eli, had connected the dots - and marked them with little red arrows. It hadn't been the only reason, for sure, but it was part of the trigger for a full-blown fight and an even bigger rift between father and daughter that had only just started to mend in a hotel room two years ago.<p>

Tony was yanked out of quiet reminiscence when Ziva handed him a Styrofoam cup and sat down opposite him, cradling her own. He was only halfway through his appreciative smile when he took a sip. The sip didn't last for long, though. Instantly, his forehead creased with wrinkles, his nostrils flared and a gagging sound shot from deep within his throat.

"God, what's that?", he yelped, eyeing the creamy white cup suspiciously.

"Tea", Ziva retorted simply, taking a sip from her own cup.

Tony seemed on the verge of hyperventilating. His mouth opened and closed for a few times before a singular word slipped past his lips, "Why?"

Ziva didn't so much as flinch. "Because you already had five cups of coffee today. It is not healthy."

He scoffed. "Who ran into your knife and made you head of HHS?"

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned in, her voice toned down to a hiss, "I am the woman who will have to listen to you _whine_ if you…_ever_…contract any health problems."

"I promise to work out more, but-", Tony pleaded. He held up the cup and gave her the same pout she could witness on her daughter almost daily. "Screw the brew?"

Ziva had built up a salient resistance to that particular facial DiNozzo-heirloom, but she also knew which fights were worth fighting - and which weren't. For a moment she stalled. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowed, and seized him up. Then she silently reached out and swapped their cups. A soft purr escaped Tony's mouth upon the first sip of black liquid. Ziva couldn't stop the edges of her mouth from slipping upwards a little.

"You saw Betty Wilson's message to you?", Tony inquired with a small smirk, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes…", she answered tersely.

He grinned. "X and O, and X, and O. Irrationally sweet, don't ya think?"

"You are enjoying yourself, yes?"

"You gotta admit, it's kinda cute. Weird…but cute and it's all for a good cause. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, right?"

Ziva's eyes shot up at him. "You don't say…"

"Also, in your case, it's more like: What doesn't kill _her_, makes _you_ stronger."

"Would you…care to change the topic?"

Tony smiled at the almost pleading look in Ziva's eyes. Then he reached down and produced a white paper bag. He opened it, his mouth gaping a little on the hinges of a smile, and retrieved two identical salads complete with cutlery. Ziva was about to open her mouth, but Tony held up his hand to induce her silence. With fluid motions he pulled a small packet from his jacket pocket and offered it to her with a knowing smile.

Gulping down his first bite, Tony asked, "So, whatcha been conspiring on with David?"

Ziva fork-plowed through her salad, a small smile springing to her face. "He was asked to hand in a summing-up of what we will be presenting on _Profession Day_. So, I summed up my profession for him."

"Sparing the gory details, I hope?" Tony's brows furrowed.

"Of course…" Ziva started eating her salad, her eyes only rolling down to confirm her fork pronging the lettuce leafs, otherwise keeping them trained on her partner in field and life.

"So, that's next Monday?"

"Yes. He just got the dates mixed up last week."

Tony nodded slowly. "Given any thought to the 23rd lately?"

She caught his endearing smile with her own, watching him devour his latest tomato with a wink. "It is still more than a month away."

Tony's eyes, however, were already trained on an imagined spot on the windows across from them, relishing the visions he was projecting there. "I was thinking old-school, like we did the first year? The dinner at _Giacomo's_, the drive-in movie, the walk…the after show", Tony hummed, his eyes gaining a wishful glint.

Ziva caught that glint, trying to keep her own smile and its tugging sensation in check. "If I remember correctly I was…as you would say…about to _pop_ back then", Ziva cautioned, her hand unconsciously finding its way to her flat abdomen.

A DiNozzo-approved mischief of a grin emerged on Tony's face. "Just think what you'd be capable of now with the added flexibility."

Ziva merely furrowed her brows, but her eyes were smiling anyway. "David and Tali-"

"I'm sure Abby and McUncle would be glad to be of service."

Ziva placed the plastic cutlery in her now-empty box and got up to throw it into the trash. When she returned to Tony's expectant smile, she bent down to catch his lips with a small kiss, her hand lingering on the side of his face. They locked eyes, staring at each other for a while. Then Ziva started in a low whisper, "I will think about it."

"Which…in _my_ mind", Tony countered, his smile brightening to a grin, "Sounds like I can get into prepping mode."

Ziva slightly tilted her head to the side, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. She patted his cheek and with one last peck to the lips she left for the squadroom, leaving Tony to his visionary's smile.

* * *

><p>Returning from lunch, Tony found an IM from McGee on his computer, ordering both Ziva and him back down to the lab for newly acquired intel. However, when they arrived at the door to <em>Labby Land<em>, McGee was in the middle of fending off Abby's obvious glare from across the evidence table.

"What was I supposed to do? Tell him to go to hell?", McGee asked, his voice a tinge higher than its normal volume, indicating an oncoming bout of irritation.

"Maybe we _should_, Tim. Maybe we _should_ tell him to go to hell and take his crapload of money right with him. Maybe that's what we're _supposed_ to do", Abby shot back, her arms flying out into all directions and swinging her pigtails along.

Tony and Ziva shared a hesitant glance. Abby's and McGee's marital fights were usually relegated to the privacy of their home. That was not to say that Tony and Ziva had never witnessed a fight before, because they had, but the circumstances of the lab and the gravity of the issue made evident by the looks in their eyes rendered this moment an out-of-the-ordinary one. Then again, they knew that whatever it was that was currently happening with the sudden emergence of Liora's biological father was putting quite the strain on them.

"So the meeting's on Friday. What's the big deal?", McGee countered, obviously trying to hold on to his composure.

"For one, who does he think he is? Changing the dates on us like- like we're some drive-by almanac prostitutes", Abby fumed, starting to pace up and down. "And to let his office make the call? Like we're doing business with him, or what? For all we know he could have procreated by the dozen and we're just one of his baby-customers… And- and we don't have a nanny for Friday afternoon, remember? I'm supposed to finish up early." She ended on a much more somber note, her eyelids slipping over her eyes in a familiar look of weariness.

A soft smile settled on McGee's face as he rounded the table and placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "I _agreed_ to change the date and when I called him back he was in a meeting, so I told his office. I really don't know about his baby-business, but I sure hope you're wrong. And I'm sorry about the nanny-thing, I didn't think about that."

Before Abby could open her mouth to answer, however, Tony had finally taken a step into the room, making his presence known by cautiously clearing his throat. Their eyes divulged only the tiniest bit of embarrassment that they had obviously been overheard. Hence, Tony quickly offered, "We could put in some nanny-hours, if you want."

"You sure?", McGee checked.

"Of course. We would love to have Liora over", Ziva supplied, stepping forward as well. "And I am sure Tali and David will be thrilled as well."

Abby smiled. "Thanks guys."

"Sure."

"But why're you down here anyway?"

"You told us to?", Tony retorted, looking a bit skeptical.

"We did?", Abby wondered, exchanging a quick look with McGee's nod. "We did… Right on." Almost in unison they turned around and started typing into their respective keyboards. "Port Authority sent their feeds from last Monday."

"And we reviewed all the tapes, including the ones prior to the _Colona's_ clearance for docking. And we found no unusual activity", McGee elaborated.

Abby pulled up a quartet of images, each showing a particular angle of the ship they had recently come to know as the _Colona_. However, the image thus created at exactly 2:54 p.m. - as indicated by the time stamps on each picture - was not at all comprehensive. "Like with the image of the _Colona_ here, the cameras don't cover the entire stockyard, though. There are blind spots they could have taken advantage of."

Then they fell univocally silent, causing both Tony and Ziva to turn around and eye them suspiciously. Ziva's eyes narrowed. She could virtually sense their uneasiness. "What is it?"

McGee and Abby exchanged a glance. "We finally finished downloaded all of the data Johnston's already screened", Abby started softly.

"And?"

"And… He ran a full trace on Arik. The guy usually was smart enough to bounce his IP-address all over the globe on his personal computer, but sometimes he logged onto different computers. Public computers", McGee continued, smacking his lips slightly.

"They weren't as secure, but he still contacted some of the same transceivers."

"For instance he sent messages to a restricted…_really_ restricted account. So restricted-"

"You can't crack it without breaking a few laws?", Tony substituted absently, scanning their faces for the answer.

"No, Tony. So restricted we can't crack it. Period", Abby clarified, biting her bottom lip.

"So, that is it? You cannot hack into that account?", Ziva inquired, sensing there was a bit more than laws and deficiencies behind their sudden tight-lipped delivery.

"Not exactly, no."

Abby pressed her lips into a thin line. "By monitoring known transceivers Johnston managed to pinpoint Arik's general location."

"And?" Ziva couldn't deny she was growing impatient.

"He traced them back to- to Israel."

"We also reviewed the _Colona's_ GPS logs after you came back from Norfolk and while Manzur set out from a South Sinai port, he also did a stop-over in Eilat", McGee relayed. He pulled up the file on the plasma, but Tony and Ziva didn't even turn around to confirm.

"We're guessing that's where Arik and the others came on board", Abby ended. Both her and McGee's eyes were trained on Ziva.

Tony had turned towards his partner as well. "So, that's what Johnston meant."

Ziva nodded slightly. "If I had stayed in Israel seventeen years ago, you guys would already be out of work", she stated sardonically.

"Yeah, that's one way to put it…", Tony returned absentmindedly.

* * *

><p><em>Things are starting to get interesting... Next chapter: How do Tony and Ziva deal with the news? For now: Leave a <strong>review<strong>, please!_


	11. Healing in Time

Welcome to an update! Once again I find myself thanking you sincerely for your reviews and throughts. The following chapter will hold special meaning for those of you who also read _"Now a' is done"_ as it ties somewhat into the aftermath of its plot. And on a more **personal note**: If any of you, who only recently took the time to review _"Now a' is done"_ after reading it in full and then embarked on the sequel, are reading this A/N - maybe you can drop me a line as to your thoughts installment.

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 11 Healing in time<strong>

**Monday, March 22nd 2021** - _**afternoon**_

After revelation-hour down in the lab, Ziva spent the rest of the afternoon sifting through transcripts and files McGee and Abby were sending her for situational or behavioral clues of any sort. Barely a word was spoken in the bullpen all throughout. They could have left together to pick up the kids later on, but Ziva faintly pretended to still be working on something and Tony duly played along. He knew she needed him not to recognize her blatant excuse. They were no strangers to situations like these. Most often it would happen when they were dealing with rape victims, battered wives, abused children. Tony had respected his partner's need for dealing with resurfacing demons on her own all those times in the past and he respected it now. He didn't know where she went, when she went where she went, or even if she had some kind of healing routine, but he didn't probe either.

The kids didn't ask him where Ziva was right away. They were used to one-parent afternoons. When it was time for Tali's bath, the little girl asked for the first time, though. Ziva was usually in charge of washing her hair. For one, because Tali put up much less of a fight with Ziva than with Tony. And apart from that, experience-wise Ziva was way more skilled at handling the five-year-old's unruly curls. Tony usually ended up with more water and bubbly residue on his shirt than he ever managed to get on Tali.

In the middle of overcoming the third shampoo-met-eyes-crisis of their joint endeavor David knocked on the bathroom door, inquiring about his mother's whereabouts - the second question of that sort for the evening. Even though he usually asked whichever parent was on hand concerning homework or assignments, only Ziva was linguistically equipped to deal with problems regarding anything Hebrew. A year ago they had enrolled David in Hebrew classes he now attended every two weeks. Ziva had had a field day conversing with her son's teacher on their shared homeland and it still drove a smile on Tony's face when he remembered. There was something acutely fascinating about Ziva when she talked in foreign languages any time, but he regarded it as an added bonus when it didn't concern work or Eli. Tony eventually put David off to when Ziva would come home. That's when the asking got more distinctive, though. And Tony had no answer as to the exact _'when'_ of Ziva's return.

After conquering every knot in Tali's hair Tony announced dinner. He had turned their usual routine upside down, but still there was no Ziva. He tried to hide how often he now checked the clock above the door in the kitchen, but they noticed anyway. They noticed because there was nothing usual about their mother's absence anymore. When her chair remained unoccupied all throughout dinner, Tony found himself fielding question after question.

_Was mommy out?_ Sometimes Ziva and Abby would announce the need for a _"girls' night out"_, leaving their respective beaus in charge of the kids. That usually led to McGee and Tony arranging for a sleepover at one or the other apartment to put in some _"guys' time"_-plus. _No, there would be no sleepovers tonight._

_Was mom working on a special case again?_ They usually dubbed everything out-of-the-ordinary about work a _"special case"_. Those euphemistically named aspects were the likes of Tony attending a conference in his capacity as Supervisory Agent. They entailed Ziva working on joint assessments or operations with foreign agencies. They also covered the nights neither Ziva nor Tony could come home due to stakeout shifts, travels abroad or undercover ops. _"Special cases"_ really was a pretty extensive category they had filled up with features like _"no need to worry"_, _"will be over soon"_, _"won't happen often"_ and so on. _But no, there were no special cases involved._

_Can't you ask her to come home for a bit?_ In the prospect of an all-nighter it sometimes happened that either Tony or Ziva - whichever was to stay at the office - came home for an hour or two so as to participate in the kids' nightly routine of tucking in, reading stories, fielding requests. _He couldn't do that today._ What he didn't say out loud was that he couldn't do it because he had no idea where his partner was.

Tony was getting worried, he couldn't deny that. No matter how hard their day at work had been, no matter how many demons it had unraveled for her, Ziva always came home in time to tuck their kids in. Being there to say goodnight and being there to guard their transition into dreamland - it was a holistic concept for her, a concept of great value. It was important to her, more so even than it was to Tony.

"Mommy not tuckin' me in?", Tali inquired when Tony arranged the covers around his daughter. Surprisingly, the little girl had not requested more than one chapter of her latest book. Usually, it took them at least three.

Tony managed a smile, even though worry was spreading rapidly inside of him by now. He had tried Ziva's cell five times already, but she had turned it off. "She is working very late tonight, princess", he explained, crouching down beside her bed.

"Won't come home?"

Tony had been telling himself over and over again that it wasn't a big deal. So Ziva was still out at eight o'clock in the evening. So what? But seeing the degraded look in his daughter's eyes, he realized that it _was_, it was a big deal. For Ziva, for them - it was a big deal. Tony slightly shook his head. "But she'll be here in the morning when you wake up. Okay?" Tali nodded slowly, pulling Shim a little bit closer to her.

"Buona notte", Tony whispered, kissing the little girl's head and standing up.

He switched the fairy lamp on and was almost out the door, when Tali's voice reached out to stop him. "Daddy?"

"Yes, princess?"

"What 'bout my stowy?", she asked in a small voice.

"I just read you a story, princess", Tony answered sweetly, taking a few steps back into the room.

Tali shook her head. "Not in the book. My school stowy."

It took Tony a few seconds, but then it dawned on him. "You have a story to tell your mom about school today."

Tali nodded. "Mommy said she wanna hear all 'bout it t'night."

Tony could hear the disappointment in his daughter's voice and kneeled down at the footend of her bed, a reassuring smile playing on his face. "Mommy didn't know she had to work so late. But in the morning you can tell her all about it. I'm sure she'll like that."

Tali tucked Shim beneath her head, holding him close, and nodded. "'Nuh-ight, daddy."

"G'night, princess."

Tony left with a last smile. He heaved a sigh outside his daughter's door, his hand finding its way into the pocket of his jeans, his fingers starting to fumble with his cell. He eventually decided against it and turned towards his son's room instead. David was lying in his bed, reading. Tony's inquisitive eyes fell on the folder lying open on his son's desk. A neon-colored post-it was attached to its rim with a glaringly big question mark on it. The writing in the folder wasn't anything Tony could decipher. "I'm sure your mom can help you with that in the morning", he asserted.

David nodded. "Mom's at work all night?"

"Yep", Tony answered curtly, willing himself not to scowl as he sat down on the edge of his son's bed.

David, however, screwed his forehead up in curious wrinkles. "She okay?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Why d'you ask that?"

"You called her…a lot", David observed, his green eyes locking with Tony's.

A soft chuckle got caught in Tony's throat. There really was no point in hiding things from their son - either that or he needed to up his game next time. Of course, David would have noticed. "Nah, you know how I get with your mom. Just wanted to make sure she didn't strain a muscle working so much", Tony countered, trying to keep his voice light and reassuring. And for all intents and purposes it seemed to work and a small smile formed on David's face. "Us guys, we gotta protect our girls, right?", Tony added, ruffling his son's hair. David chuckled and returned to his book. Tony pointed at the 200-page tome they had bought only last Saturday. "Not too long, okay?"

"'kay."

"Goodnight." Tony leaned forward and planted a kiss on his son's forehead before getting up and turning to leave the room.

"Dad?" Once again he was stopped in the doorframe.

"Huh?"

"Mom can protect herself too, you know", David asserted matter-of-factly, only briefly catching Tony's eyes before he resumed his late-night read.

It took Tony a moment but then he nodded, a small smile springing to his face. He left and closed the door behind him. Before retreating to the couch in the living room Tony tried to reach Ziva for the sixth time, leaving the third message. He started out reviewing old case files but soon realized he was far from able to concentrate. Minutes trickled by. He caught himself considering various scenarios of calling McGee and asking him to trace the offline-GPS integrated into Ziva's cellphone. TV-programs appeared especially unentertaining. He was seriously pondering his level of neurosis if he called her again, when he was suddenly yanked from his musings by the jingling of keys and the front door being opened. He quickly glanced at the clock on the far side of the room: It was almost midnight.

Tony quickly rounded the couch and went into the foyer. He stopped in the doorframe. Out of habit his eyes first scanned her body over for obvious injuries. When he found none, he fixated her with a glare. "Where the hell were you?"

Ziva didn't answer, just struggled out of her jacket and cumbersomely slid it onto a branch of the coat rack by the door. Tony watched her with wide eyes, rooted to the paneling beneath him. She held onto the wall for support while slipping out of her boots.

"Are you drunk?", he blurted out.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slowly. "No…", she dragged at the syllable but her voice was clear and full.

He nodded slowly, watching her pass him by without as much as another glare in his direction. He followed her into the kitchen, where she filled a glass with water and gulped it down thirstily. Then she filled another glass, drinking half of it before placing it on the counter next to her. She slid her hands through her hair, opening the tight braid she had tied it up in that morning.

"I called you six times. Where were you?", Tony repeated, taking a step into the kitchen but still keeping his distance from her.

Ziva closed her eyes for a moment, slowly taking in a mouthful of breath. "Out… Thinking."

"Thinking or drinking?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had never seen her like this before. She scoffed, reaching for the glass and gulping down the rest of the water before putting the glass in the sink with an audible _clonk_. Tony took another step towards her. "Come on, Ziva", he whispered, pinning her eyes down with his gaze. "What's going on? You never drink…not like this."

It was true. He had seen her drink, of course he had. But never too much. Sure, he had seen her drink too much as well, but that was all before Somalia. He knew - she had told him - how much she had struggled not to turn to the numbing qualities of alcohol after her ordeal. She had forced herself to feel and she still did. In her mind that was the only way. Shutting out the bad would also mean shutting out the good and she didn't want that. It had had lasting effects on Tony as well. He had always been prone to too much alcohol in his day, but that had stopped with Ziva and the kids.

"It seems…", Ziva started slowly, gripping the edge of the counter behind her back, "There are a lot of things I never do…and never am." A small, derisive laugh trickled from her lips.

Tony could only stare at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Happiness, Tony. I am talking about…being happy."

"But you are", he insisted, remembering their conversation from just a few days ago.

The edges of her mouth turned upwards, but he saw right through it. There was something more radiant about her true smiles. He took the last remaining steps towards her, leaving only a few inches between them. "Not for long…", she murmured, "It seems I am not designed to be happy…for too long."

This was way beyond any scenario he had imagined their conversation could go. He had imagined the argument-scenario, where his hour-long worry would have burst out of him in anger. He had imagined the relief-scenario, where all he would have done was hold her. He had even indulged in imagining the recompense-scenario. But not this.

Before he could open his mouth with some kind of reaction, however, Ziva stopped him. She gazed at him, her lids tiredly hanging over her eyes. "I was happy at NCIS, then I was ordered to go to hell. I was happy with you and my father came back. My son is born and the next moment he is sick. We get a daughter and you leave. Then Peled… And now I am happy again and _this_…is happening."

And that was counting only from her twenties onward. Tony realized how much she must have thought about her life's cruel oscillations and he had a hard time not simply throwing his arms around her. But instead he tried his face at a small smile. "But that's exactly it, Zee. You don't even know what _this_ is right now. So what? Those guys come from Israel. This doesn't have to be about you or us or the kids", Tony reasoned, believing it too.

She slightly shook her head. "No such thing as coincidences."

A slight huff escaped Tony's lips. "Channeling Gibbs before six in the morning is a bad idea." His words induced a small smile on her face. "You missed tuck-in duty."

The smile faded. "I am feeling like crap, Tony. This is not the time to rub-"

"No", he cut in, placing his hands on her shoulders, "You missed your daughter complaining about my lack of hair washing skills. You missed helping your son with his homework. You missed Tali dying to tell you about her day. You missed _your_ kids wanting a goodnight kiss from you."

Ziva's jaw clenched. "Tony what-"

"Moments count, Ziva", Tony said. "And nothing's ever happened we couldn't get through. So, as far as fate not wanting you to be happy goes… It's been doing one half-assed job."

On a different day and under different circumstances she might have caved, she might have given in to the words of the man she loved. On a different day and under different circumstances a smile might have erupted on her face. Today, however, she had been too caught up in the cycles of her own thinking for too long, the vicious self-enhancing of her inner distress. At that moment in time she could only roll her eyes at him. "Please, this is-"

"Good grief, Zee", Tony snapped, removing his hands from her shoulders. "You think you got dibs on the crappy past? We all got dealt a pretty rough hand, you know-"

"That is not fair, Tony-"

"Fair? Of course it's not fair! Nothing is fair about the hell you went through", he growled in a low voice. "If I knew how, I would stop you from hurting. But I can't. I know it still hurts…all of it . And it hurts me to know that I cannot take this away from you. But in all this…what I _don't_ get…is why you _insist_ on hurting yourself over and over again."

She stared at his heaving chest. "It is not only that", she conceded. "I am putting all of you in danger. What if they come after you?"

"So, we won't let that happen. We have our ways, you know? Just like we did before."

"What if we do not succeed this time?", she insisted quietly. "What if we cannot protect them, Tony?"

"We-"

"I am scared", Ziva stated simply, their eyes meeting in such sincerity that her emotions crashed in on him all at once. Suddenly, he understood. This wasn't about happiness or crappy childhoods, hellish pasts or lifelong trials. This was, quite simply and terrifyingly, about fear; fear for their children.

Before he could offer any kind of answer or reaction, however, a small voice emerged from the adjacent room, interrupting their exchange. "Daddy, I'm thirsty."

Tony lingered in Ziva's eyes for a moment longer, unable to tear them away just yet. They reinforced what she had just told him and seeing the love of his life scared, a woman as fiercely defiant to fear, was more than wholeheartedly unsettling to him. When he finally turned around, he found Tali standing there, clad in her pajamas with Shim tucked under her arm. She looked at him through drowsy eyes. Then suddenly, however, those eyes fell on Ziva leaning against the counter, watching her. Tali's eyelids instantly gave way to her brightening features.

"Mommy, you home!" Tali trotted over, throwing her arms around Ziva's legs.

"Shalom, tateleh", Ziva greeted, the softness of adoration returned to her voice. Ziva bent down and gathered Tali up in her arms, kissing the little girl's forehead. Tony briefly caught a glimpse of her eyes and even though there was gladness, that glimmer of fear persisted. It scared him.

"Missed you sayin' goodnight, mommy", the five-year-old asserted, resting her head against Ziva's chest.

Tony stepped up to them, giving Ziva a pointed look before searching for his daughter's eyes. "Still thirsty?", he asked.

Tali nodded her head and Tony proceeded to fill Ziva's empty glass. He handed it to the little girl, who took it gladly if a little wobbly with her free hand, the other one holding onto Shim. Ziva instinctually untangled one arm from around her daughter to assist the little girl in keeping a firm enough grip on the glass. When Tali was finished, Ziva put the glass back into the sink.

"Todah", Tali said.

Tony nodded with a smile. "Now that you're thirsty no more, it's back to bed, princess." The little girl shook her head decisively, once again burying her head in Ziva's chest. "No?", Tony exclaimed, a small laugh ringing through. "Sweetheart, you can barely keep your eyes open."

"Mommy tuck me in", the little girl insisted, rolling her eyes up to meet Ziva's. "I gotta tell you a stowy."

"And what might that story be about?", Ziva inquired gently, hoisting the five-year-old a little higher in her arms.

"I showed her my picture and- and Judy believes me now", Tali summarized triumphantly.

Ziva's eyes widened in excitement for the sake of her daughter. Personally, she didn't feel much like exaggerated glee, but it was important to Tali, so she better have done her damndest to at least keep up appearances. If it earned her a smile like the one she now got from her daughter, that was enough. "Now, I want to hear all about _that_."

"Let's go", Tali ordered sweetly, tightening her grip around Ziva's neck. Tony and Ziva shared a small smile at their daughter's sweet bossiness, but the moment mother and daughter had left the kitchen, Tony was left to ponder what lingered.

* * *

><p>"She asleep?", Tony asked from the bed as Ziva entered their shared bedroom almost an hour later. He was lying on his back on his side, his arms tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling.<p>

"Yes, finally", Ziva sighed, slipping out of her clothes, piece by piece, and piling it up by the dresser. She usually was a fierce defender of the clothes-in-the-hamper rule, but tonight was a night to abandon mundane fierceness. Clad only in one of Tony's old basketball shirts from college, she scrambled under the covers on her side, mimicking Tony's position and proceeding to stare at the ceiling. "She would not go to sleep before having detailed the _whole_ story."

"Spending so much time with Ducky would leave marks on anyone", Tony remarked.

A small laugh escaped Ziva's mouth and a smile remained as she was reminded of the man who had offered her so much support over the years she would never be able to make it up to him. She had always looked to Ducky as the ultimate word of reason. She couldn't deny that she missed him.

"You know we can't protect our kids from everything", Tony stated after a while, not turning to look at her.

"You really think a cliché like that applies to our situation?", Ziva challenged, remaining in her position as well.

"No", he sighed. "Just thought I'd say it anyway."

"I am their mother. I _should_ protect them, not put them in more danger", Ziva whispered slowly.

Tony finally turned his head enough to look at her. "_We_…are their parents. And we do protect them."

"Maybe I should have never been this selfish", she repeated, not having heard a word he had said. Her eyes were still fixed to the ceiling, unaware of Tony now turned fully towards her.

For a moment Tony DiNozzo felt unable to respond. Instances like these didn't come around often. He knew that those moments of deepest fear and self-doubt still stemmed from a past they could usually push to the very margins of their life together. Suddenly he felt himself transported back to those months of pregnancy prior to David's birth, before he had become a father and before Ziva had become a mother. They had talked about it, they had wanted children, but for months Tony had watched the love of his life suffer through doubt and inner terror at the prospect of having a child. A little over two years had separated the hell that had been Somalia and carrying their son. A little over two years, he now knew, had separated the anguish of losing her tormenters' baby and carrying their son. Never had two years seemed that short a time to heal.

"What kind of life am I giving them?"

"Stop it", Tony hissed, trying to keep a grip on his own emotions. "This is not _you_ talking, Ziva."

"No? Am I not the Mossad officer, the assassin, the murderer? Am I not the woman who killed by the dozen?" Ziva's voice was suddenly strong and fierce, her eyes gleaming at Tony through the darkness of the room as she finally whirled her head around to face him.

A small smile erupted on Tony's face. "I'm sure glad I _love_ your skewed stubbornness, you know?"

A knot had clogged up Ziva's throat that, combined with Tony's offhand assertion, left her speechless. Her mouth gaped, a wrangled _'Huh'_ dripping from her lips.

"You forget you're also an NCIS Special Agent, an investigator, a counselor. A woman who helped hundreds of people over the years", he argued slowly, taking a hold of her hand beneath the covers. "I know you're scared and I know this is fear talking right now. But there is no better way to protect them than to be who you are."

Ziva stared into his eyes, the sincerity and the love radiating off of him. Even the hint of fear she detected in them appeared at once consoling. "And who am I, Tony?"

He leaned forward and caught her lips in a gentle kiss, pinning down her eyes with his. "All of the above _plus_…the love of my life, the mother of my children and all this wrapped up in a package of mad ninja skills."

A soft laugh escaped her lips, but a smile still struggled to persist on her face. She led her free hand up to rest against the side of his face. "For better and for worse", she murmured.

Tony was about to reinforce his point once more when he noticed Ziva's eyes diverting. He quickly followed her line of vision and found their son standing in the doorway, the doorknob still in hand and squinting through the darkness.

"David? Hakol beseder?", Ziva called out gently, her hand not leaving Tony's face yet.

The eight-year-old took a few steps into the room, his eyes narrowed, but not saying a word. "Everything okay, bud?", Tony tried.

A small smile settled on the little boy's face and he nodded. "Just wanted to get some water and- You're home." He was looking directly at Ziva.

Ziva mirrored her son's smile - a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Tony. It was strange how the enormity of her feelings could throw her for a loop of doubt, fear and dejection, how hard it was for him to get her back - probably not any less hard, likewise, than it was for Ziva to keep _him_ on track - and just how small a gesture or word could sometimes do much more.

"Yes", Ziva asserted simply, studying her son's features. Then she flung her legs over the edge of the bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants. "I will get you some water."

Ziva put an arm around David's shoulder and guided him out of the bedroom. When they arrived in the kitchen, Ziva retrieved a glass and filled it with water. She handed it to her son. David took it but didn't proceed to drink. Instead he looked at Ziva with questioning eyes, causing her to raise her eyebrows. "Mah Yesh?", she asked quietly.

He blinked. "It's gonna be okay."

Ziva was taken aback for a moment. She propped her hand up on the counter and tilted her head a little to the side. "What is?"

"I donno", David replied simply, finally taking a sip. "But you're worried and it's gonna be okay."

She knew better than to ask her ever-observant son why he thought she was or looked worried. She took the glass from him, cradling it in her hand for a while. "And how do you know that?", she inquired, her eyes narrowing curiously.

David merely shrugged. "Just do."

Ziva nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her face. "Back to bed with you."

She slung an arm around him once more, leading him upstairs and into his bedroom. After she had tucked the covers in around him, Ziva crouched down next to David's bed, folding her arms on top of it. "You know, tateleh, your dad and I sometimes just worry. It is our job, so that you and your sister may not have to", she explained carefully, moving to caress the side of his face with her hand.

"I won't if you won't." David smiled cunningly, reminding Ziva so much of Tony.

She smiled. "Deal." She leaned up and planted a kiss on her son's forehead. "I love you."

"Love you too, mommy."

Ziva lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching David get comfortable beneath the covers. When his eyes finally closed, she did the same with the door and returned to the master bedroom. Tony's soft snores preceded the look of him, sprawled out on his side of the bed. His breathing was more shallow than usual, assuring her that he was only half-asleep. She cautiously went over and bent down, kissing him. "I am sorry for worrying all of you", she mumbled against his lips.

"It's okay", he returned, capturing her lips once more before opening his eyes. "I should've- I know…how this stuff gets to you and-"

Ziva shook her head slightly. "Yes, but that is no reason for me to-"

"It is", Tony admitted, gently pulling her down to sit on the edge of the bed. "But you don't have to work through it alone, I-"

"I know", she whispered. "And I love you for that."

Their eyes met in mutual smiles. The fear wasn't gone in either pair, too imminent was the danger. Suddenly, however, the soft padding of little feet jerked them out of their joint reverie. Their gazes landed on the outlines of their five-year-old daughter, drunk on sleep, meandering determinedly towards where she knew her parents' bed was. Both Ziva and Tony remained still, their eyes following Tali throughout her struggle of climbing up the bed. Ziva assisted with the gentlest push as the little girl moved to scramble all the way over Tony's torso before lodging herself in the middle of the bed. A content, heartfelt sigh escaped her small lips the moment she had achieved the quint-comfortable position and soon her breathing was as deep as her slumber.

Tony and Ziva looked at each other, mirroring each other's smile. Tony chuckled. "We're never alone anyway."

* * *

><p>Stay tuned for <strong>next chapter<strong>: Face-off in the elevator and more details on the case! Special line-tidbit-teaser-thingie:_ "How do you make it?"_

Till then: **Review**, please!


	12. A Blend of Trice

_More on the case, more family moments: just another chapter. Thank you again for your reviews - always love and always will love to hear your thoughts. Seems like 'The Ides of Time' will be way longer than its prequel, and reviews certainly help keeping the motivation alive!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 12 A Blend of Trice<strong>

**Tuesday, March 23****rd**** 2021**

She knew no parent was perfect. She was living proof of it. She also knew her own children would be living proof of the exact same truth. But knowing it didn't make living it any easier at times. A voiceless scoff escaped her lips on her ride in the elevator. She had certainly shed some of the serene cool she had once had, the lead jacket of self-control she had put on the moment Eli had placed her on the Kidon unit for the operation in Paris. Somalia had left cracks, yes, but David's and Tali's existence sometimes just tore the whole thing apart. She knew she was _what-if-_ing away at her own sanity, but: What if Eli had sold ice cream for a living? What if she were just an agent without that history, without that background?

Thankfully, the elevator chose that moment to arrive at its designated floor. The doors swooshed open and Ziva found herself in the middle of the stitching bustle of another day at the office, NCIS version. She was making herself crazy over nothing, but she couldn't help it. She took a deep breath, grabbed the strap of her backpack and finally stepped out into the squadroom. Tony and she had switched roles for the day. She didn't yet feel ready to go on as if nothing seemed to be happening. Her instincts had seldom faulted her, and never had they faulted her when her kids were involved.

When she entered the bullpen, she was surprised to find no one there. McGee should have been. He was probably in the lab, though. Johnston's computer chip had left them with ten times more intel to process than ever before. She slipped into her chair and booted up her computer, just staring at the screen as it changed color and images. The moment the NCIS logo faded into her welcoming-screen, her insides cramped up. It was a picture of Tony, Tali and David on a boat off the shore of Haifa. Tony was leaning against the rail on the upper deck, one foot propped up on a white bench in front of him, purposefully channeling _Captain Morgan_. Tali was resting against his chest, smiling at the camera from beneath her curls, and David was lying sideways on the bench, his left arm cupping his chin. Ziva smiled. In an oddly tourist-y moment she had insisted on the staged portrait, loving the cliché.

She sighed and left, deciding that her thoughts were best occupied more productively down in the lab anyway. When she crossed the threshold of _Labby Land_, however, all screens were buzzing with encoded lists of data and figures were automatically run against other figures on other screens. A faintly rhythmical beeping sound was playing background basso to the blaring of foreground music. Abby was there, her feet tapping along to the odd combination of lab noises and melodies.

"Abby?", Ziva called out softly, approaching her best friend with a frown.

Abby whirled around, a look of surprise settling on her face as well. "Whatcha doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Abby raised her hand, biting her bottom lip. "Realized that getting to the next possible neurotic level of spending time with my daughter would involve using NBCA."

"NB…CA?", Ziva repeated vaguely.

"N-Butyl cyanoacrylate", Abby answered easily, offering a small smile. "Skin glue."

Ziva smiled and raised her hand as well, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "I am not so sure why _I'm_ here." Abby relegated her answer to a slight nod. Her eyes followed Ziva over and watched closely as her best friend tried to make sense of what was happening on the screens surrounding them. "Anything new?"

Abby, however, deftly ignored Ziva's obligatory question and waited for a moment. Waited and watched. Ziva, not giving in to Abby's stare, kept looking at the plasma. "You're not freaking out because this Arik guy is from Israel, are you?"

A small huff slipped past Ziva's lips. "I am _not_…freaking out." She finally turned to look at Abby and her eyes glossed over with composure. Abby knew that look.

"Come on Ziva, you've been an American citizen for what? Eleven years? Israel doesn't necessarily equal maniac from the past anymore." A small reassuring smile settled on her face.

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Peled?"

Abby's smile slipped for a second, but soon amounted to past radiance. "That was different. It's not like there's one vengeful whack-job for every year your father's been on the job." Ziva cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, maybe there _is_… But they won't be coming after _you_."

"They could", Ziva countered, leaning back against the desk with a most solemn expression on her face. "And besides that, I do not need my father for a share of vengeful...maniacs. I have enough of my own."

Abby tilted her head to the side, her smile persisting. "But…_eleven_ years, Ziva."

"I know... Still I- It is a feeling I have-"

"A feeling, huh?", Tony's voice cut in. Both women's eyes shot up and found him standing in the doorway, an inquisitive look on his face. Abby watched as the pair's gazes locked and kept herself from commenting on the sizzling tension building up between them.

"Feel like talking?", Tony continued. Before Ziva could as much as open her mouth to answer, however, he added, "Not a request by the way."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, her stare challenging Tony's. After another heartbeat she let her arms fall to her sides, straightened up and strolled past him into the elevator. Tony left Abby with a small smile before turning around and following Ziva into their private conference room. Just when the doors to the elevator closed behind him, McGee arrived at the scene, his mouth gaping with annoyance.

"Any special reason why I had to take the stairs?", he grunted upon entering the lab.

Abby turned, an apprehensive look on her face. "Tony and Ziva."

McGee merely nodded. When Abby didn't stop staring at him, however, his eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Liora okay?"

"She's great, don't worry." He smiled, starting to re-route the data packages from the day before so as to pinpoint his most recent location in the sea of intel.

Recognizing the tenacious smile on her husband's face, Abby knew exactly how much he had enjoyed his time with their daughter. Liora was slowly shaping up to become a _daddy's girl_ all the way her eyes could reach and there was nothing Abby could do about it - actually, there was nothing she _wanted_ to do about it. Rapidly, that familiar feeling of uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. But they couldn't go there. They couldn't start creating all these frightening scenarios in their heads. There was no use.

McGee turned and cast a quick glance at the elevator. "You think they're gonna be okay?"

"That's Tony and Ziva we're talking about", Abby answered matter-of-factly. "The Ross and Rachel of law enforcement…minus the haircut and the monkey…and the Joey-sweetness-" McGee scowled silently. "So, the reference was a bit weak there, but- If anyone can do this, it's them… Everything's gonna be okay."

He scrutinized the look in her eyes and the obstinate ring to her voice. "So, I'm not the only one who's worried about the lack of dead bodies so far?"

Abby's eyes went wide. "Tim!" At that moment an alarm on one of the computers started going off, droning out even the Abby-esque music volume. She swatted his arm.

"Ow! What's that for?", he yelped, rubbing his arm.

"You jinxed it!"

* * *

><p>The moment the doors of the elevator slipped shut behind Tony, Ziva couldn't contain her irritation any longer. "What are you doing?", she snapped.<p>

Tony took his time to scan her posture, the look in her eyes, the way she was holding up. "I need to know if you're up for this", he declared eventually, his jaw unusually terse.

Her eyes narrowed. "Up for what?"

"After what happened last night I thought we were on the same page here."

"Depends on what chapter you are reading", Ziva deadpanned.

However, no smile graced Tony's lips. "We still don't know what we're dealing with. And if it really is what you think it is, we'll do everything to protect them. I thought you got that set-up."

Ziva took a step back. "It is more complicated than that and you know it."

Tony's eyes appeared to intensify in color, his jaw clenched. "If you can't do your job objectively, there's no place for you in this investigation."

Ziva's eyes now narrowed to slits, her lips aligned in a terse contour. "Are you by any chance threatening to pull me off the case?"

"If you can't do your job, there's no point in doing your job", Tony insisted, his voice lower than before.

"What do you suggest I do, Tony?", Ziva hissed, moving her head closer to his. "Flick the switch on my emotions, because it is…_that_ easy?" Her voice was almost doing a somersault on the last word.

"Flip, _flip_ the switch", Tony corrected automatically, ignoring her huff. "And yes, that's exactly what I need you to do. You've done it before, remember?"

Their eyes were locked, daring each other to break the stare first. "This is different", Ziva whispered vaguely.

"How?"

"It could be about Tali and David."

"All the more reason", Tony argued through gritted teeth, "To stay focused and get it together."

"Are you…_absolutely_ convinced that you are not ordering me to do something you cannot do yourself?", Ziva challenged.

"At least I'm trying", Tony returned, ending on a high note. "And I'm not ordering you to do anything. I am _asking_ you…as your damn _husband_… What's with you? I need more fighter-Ziva, less worry-Ziva."

"Do you realize you are asking me to choose between being an agent and being a mother?", she countered, her eyebrows rising.

"I'm not asking you to choose anything", Tony asserted. "I'm asking you to be both."

Suddenly, a knock on the door broke the moment but not the stare. They still dangled in each other's eyes. McGee's voice emerged from outside, "Guys? You obviously have some issues here, but Abby and I might've found something."

A moment of silence settled between them as they listened for McGee to abandon his spot beyond the doors. "So, what's it gonna be?", Tony dared finally.

Without another word or glare Ziva broke the stare, flicked the elevator back to life and stepped out. Instead, she strode into the lab. "What do you got?", she asked assuredly. Tony followed with a small smile.

Abby took a moment to try and assess the twosome-situation, but failed for Ziva's lack of expression and Tony's back-to-business-attitude. Sighing dejectedly, she decided to go with the drill. "We're still not even three quarters to finished with the data packages", she started.

"Which is your way of saying that you'll work even faster, right?" Tony smiled. Abby merely answered with a pointed look.

"Which is her way of saying that it could take days to sift through all of this partition by partition", McGee clarified, earning a grateful smile from his partner.

"So, _McGee_…here had an idea to do isolated searches", she added, returning the favor.

"Isolated searches, _right_…" Tony scowled, stepping around the desk.

McGee smacked his lips. "It's like- _Before_, we trained a floodlight at the data, retrieving big packages all at once. Now, we're using laser pointers."

"And not just random laser pointers, but specific ones", Abby substituted giddily.

"I wrote a program to organize the search by index terms or algorithms. It works with the same basic logic as your average IR query language-"

"McGee", Ziva cut in, her tone divulging some mounting aggravation. And McGee could tell. The more irritated Ziva got, the more she reverted to the pronunciation of his name that came most naturally to her - leaving out the _'c'_ in there altogether.

"Before I went home last night I started running an automated generic numerical search of eight figures."

"Coordinates." As the usefulness of their idea dawned on them, Ziva joined Tony in front of the plasma.

Abby took the hint and pulled up a map, zooming in. "And I put in a grid-translation key to feed possible matches into my babies and run the data against a map, setting the alarm for locations in the States."

"And?"

"_And_…we just got a hit on an apartment in Washington Highlands", McGee relayed, a satisfied ring to his voice.

Tony nodded. "Address-"

Abby held out a note through the small hole between the computers on her desk. Both Tony and Ziva snatched at it in unison, grabbing opposite ends of the note. They met in a brief glare, before they were interrupted by Abby's _'Aw'_-ing. They turned towards her, both sporting looks of dire irritation. Abby, however, merely held onto her smile and pointed at the note. "That's a sign, guys."

Tony and Ziva looked down at the note simultaneously, only then noticing that it was a light shade of pink and heart-shaped. Ziva's eyes narrowed and she quickly pulled the piece of paper out of Tony's grasp. "I'm driving", she asserted, already turning to leave.

Tony turned to Abby with a somewhat defeated look on his face. "Sign for possible death sentence it is", he deadpanned.

McGee, however, adeptly interrupted with another piece of information. "According to the ownership certificate, the owner's one Justin Leahy."

Tony nodded. "On-the-road background check. I have a feeling we'll need more than two sets of hands there." McGee returned his nod quickly, grabbed a portable laptop from one of the tables lining up the walls of the lab, and followed Ziva to the elevator.

"And you-", Tony looked at Abby, "Fix up and laser-tag on." He pointed towards her office with a knowing smile.

Abby hastily followed his hint and found a red-shining cup of _CafPow_ waiting on her desk beyond the glass. "Sweetest. Pusher. Ever."

Tony grinned and left.

* * *

><p>Tony gulped as they skidded dangerously close to the oncoming traffic, gripping the door handle more forcefully than he usually would. He risked a brief glance to the left, catching the blistering glint in Ziva's brown eyes. Even without his uncanny Ziva-reading abilities he would have recognized her irritation. He took a deep breath, trying, irrationally so, to minimize the distance between himself and the car waiting at the crossroads, the full scope of which Ziva had just maxed to take a right. But he had survived more deathly rolls she had been on in the past. Besides, he would rather have her mad and focused than worrying. He knew he couldn't just turn off her instincts, but he had no other choice than forcing her to block them out sometimes. They had a job to do and they couldn't do it without each other - he needed her just as much.<p>

They were just taking another right that had Tony almost shake hands with a particularly obstinate tree on the side of the road. "How's that background check coming, McGee?", he pressed out in one breath.

McGee squeezed his eyes almost shut in an effort to swallow down the queasy lump in his throat. But he held on, fighting to keep himself in an upright position and complete the necessary searches. "Doesn't look at all suspicious to me", he commented tersely.

Tony turned halfway in his seat, allowing McGee half a glimpse of his scowl. "'preciate the density of info here, but how 'bout we keep sitreps above tweet-size, McSylvester?"

"Sure", McGee replied curtly, re-opening the relevant lists, rosters and documents. "40-ish desk clerk at an insurance agency called _S-N-Cura_, based here in DC. No kids, ex-wife, parents both deceased. One sister, lives in Maryland. He pays his bills, no pending lawsuits and no prior criminals, not even a speeding ticket… Probably as normal as they get."

"Normal is worse", Ziva retorted, hitting the brakes with every bit of attitude she could muster. She nodded towards the apartment block to their left.

"Normal is _Arlington Road_ all over again", Tony added, breathing a bit heavier than before.

They got out of the car, already clad in their NCIS gear. Ziva and McGee moved to retrieve the backpacks from the trunk, McGee storing away the laptop he had just saved from shooting through the windshield. They each took to scanning the neighborhood on their way up to the clean-edge, greyish concrete building. Ziva wrinkled her nose at the sear patch of lawn spreading in front of it. The building stood flanked by two similar looking blocks. On the other side of the road factory structures interspersed large tarmac grounds, trucks lining up left and right.

Tony was the first to reach the top landing on the small flight of stairs leading up to a weathered looking wooden door. He examined the lock and turned to face Ziva. She wordlessly took the hint and grabbed her lock-picking tools from the outer pocket of her backpack. She set to work while Tony passed the time by trying to wipe black chips of paint off his new boots. A minute later Ziva clicked the door open and they entered. They passed through three different hallways before they arrived at their designated location.

To their shared surprise the door wasn't locked. The apartment was small. The front door led directly into a rectangular living room of sorts that also encompassed a little kitchen area. A door to the left connected to a bedroom half its size, another door to the bathroom.

They each took a sweeping look around, but one fact became very clear very quickly. "The place was swiped clean", Ziva remarked, setting up the contents of her backpack to the left of the room while McGee did the same in the bathroom.

"They knew we were coming", McGee added, his face divulging the uneasiness that sentence caused to spread between them.

"Process anyway", Tony declared, starting to go through the drawers under the TV-set. "It's all about the fly…all about the fly." His voice faded into a whisper on his serpentine track through the estimated 200 square feet of space lying before them.

Both Ziva and McGee let that oddity pass for it wasn't too much of an oddity after all. They both were accustomed to the _Sherlock-Holmes-y _demeanor Tony was prone to be channeling at their more covert crime scenes. They had been working for a little over half an hour - looking for prints, traces of liquid or fiber or bodily fluids, the works -, when Tony uttered the faintest sound of triumph from somewhere near the couch.

A silver-lined gum wrapper had been scuttled way deep in the upholstery. Having bagged it and tagged it as their only piece of evidence so far, Tony crouched down and started commando crawling around the paneling. A few minutes later McGee's and Ziva's eyes met across the frustrating spotlessness of the apartment. Almost in unison their gazes diverted to the front door, however. McGee grabbed the brush and powder and hurried over.

Just when they had started dusting the door for prints, Tony repeated his squeal of triumph with a little more élan. When they turned to look, they found him lying on his back underneath the darkly colored coffee table. His hand shot out from beneath the table, wiggling a small evidence jar with what appeared to be an oversized pearl of sorts.

"Ancient piece of gum, my bubbly friends", he quipped, starting to seal his way back out.

By the time he had returned to his full height, a little light on breath, Ziva called out. "Not so ancient prints here."

"Looks like a fresh three-piece grip. Thumb, index and middle finger", McGee narrated while securing the prints with a high-sensitivity scanner. "I'm sending them to Abby."

Tony nodded and took another look around. "How about we leave some eyes?"

Ziva, catching his drift, merely shook her head. "For all we know we are dealing with professionals, Tony. They knew we were on to them. They will not make the mistake and come back."

A small smile tugged at Tony's lips. "You checked for cameras?"

"Of course we did", Ziva returned curtly.

"So, we install one of our own and make sure they're cut off from their safe house _numero uno_."

Ziva knew it was no use arguing with his self-assured expression. So, she got out the miniature camera and moved to hide it among the tubes braiding the walls beneath the ceiling at the most favorable angle to catch most of the room. "McGee?", she called out when she was finished.

McGee got out his laptop once again and latched onto the signal of the wireless device. Instantly, a small screen came to life and he received a fairly good panorama of the room they were currently standing in. "Got it. Feeding it to my computer in the office…right…now."

"Happy now?", Ziva grumbled into Tony's direction as they started packing up.

"It's _all_ about baseball, Sweet Cheeks", Tony retorted leading them out the door and out of the apartment building.

Due to the lack of evidence to be laboriously gathered and secured, they were ready to leave in no time. When Ziva moved to open the door on the driver's side, however, Tony snatched the car keys right out of her other hand. Ziva was startled by his unexpected move, her mouth gaping slightly. Then again, she couldn't believe herself for not expecting it.

"I'm driving", he clarified, warding off her glare with his certified grin.

"You really think that?", Ziva retorted, a dangerous glisten settling in her eyes.

Tony couldn't help but tighten his hold on the keys. McGee on the other hand stood slightly back. In all his experience with the two of them it was sometimes better to just let it play out and roll with the consequences.

"Yes, because-", Tony started, eyeing her through playfully narrowed eyes, "Because we need to go by a grocery store and the closest one to the office is right across that nursing home on Elms."

"With the mid-afternoon group walk?", McGee substituted amusedly.

Tony nodded. "Exactly. And with your mood you'll just run one of them over, which means more paperwork for me-"

"Why groceries?", Ziva inquired, tilting her head to the side. She thought it best to avoid any further comment on the subject of her possibly fatal mood.

Tony snapped the door open. "Because we're out."

Ziva scoffed. "Out of what?"

"Out of most of the stuff you'll need for your lasagna tonight", Tony clarified eventually, grinning broadly, and climbed into the car.

Ziva blinked. "Did I know I was making lasagna?"

"Funny thing that was… I might have promised the kids you would this morning." Still smiling, Tony put on his glasses and closed the door.

Ziva was left standing there for a few heartbeats longer. Then she merely shook her head and climbed into the passenger's seat, wondering why she found it so hard to stay mad at Tony for too long.

* * *

><p>While the bickering between Tony and Ziva was still underway, a man was watching their every move on a screen from across the street. The man was tall, heavily built, and evidently too big an occupant for such confined quarters as the inside of a truck. The camera at the top of the truck was aligned with the entrance of the apartment building and the footage he had thus retrieved was more than enough for their purposes. Still, he couldn't help but keep watching while his fingers kneaded an already tasteless bead of gum. A grin was playing on his lips.<p>

The man they had recently identified as Anthony DiNozzo had just gotten into the car, when the man in the truck grabbed his phone and dialed the stipulated number. It rang once, twice, thrice. Suddenly, a clicking sound announced an answer on the other end. No voice emerged, though. "Kadeer?", the tall man inquired, unsure.

"Yes", the man named Kadeer replied, his low voice further distorted by the line's crackling noises, the trucks configuration obstructing a clear transmission.

The tall man in the truck shot another glance at the screen, watching Ziva climb into the car as well. "It is she", he confirmed.

Kadeer released a breath. "Ziva David."

The man nodded even though he was alone and no one could see him. His finger twitched, softly tapping against the back of his phone. "It is strange. They look so much alike."

He could hear Kadeer's chuckle before he hung up.

* * *

><p>McGee, figuring he could use the stop-over to restock their own fridge with some necessities, had chosen to follow Tony and Ziva into the store. What he hadn't previously accounted for, however, was that the pair had still a semi-serious <em>thing<em> going between them - for lack of a more evocative description. So, for fifteen minutes he kept crossing their path in one or the other aisle, and each time they were bickering over something or other. First it had covered the edible essentials like what kind of lasagna Ziva would be making and how much of what she would use this time. Then they had glided off into their grocery-shopping-truisms like Tony, faced with a selection, always going for the more colorful package. Right before McGee had successfully conquered the queue at the checkout he heard them start on the meta-issues like Ziva not wanting to be there in the first place. It was all very civil.

In keen foresight McGee had claimed the car keys and contently settled down in the driver's seat - deeming it best if the neutral party of three would take the last few miles to the Navy Yard - and watched them exit the store another fifteen minutes later. They had obviously stopped talking altogether by then.

McGee started the engine, trying to suppress the smile he could feel coming on. "You got everything alright?", he asked.

Tony huffed. "Now I know why we never do this together."

"You don't?"

"We have very different…_approaches_", Ziva clarified, eyeing Tony crossly from her position in the back seat.

"You just gotta know where your boundaries are", Tony declared, turning his face towards the window.

"Or _aren't_ for that matter", Ziva added pointedly. Tony merely relegated his answer to a muffled laugh.

When they arrived at the Navy Yard's parking lot, they finally realized how late in the afternoon it really was. Even though the crop of evidence was markedly thin, they had spent a good portion of their time canvassing the apartment anyway. Ziva quickly rushed upstairs to get her stuff before leaving to pick up Tali from preschool. Tony still had over two hours left before David was finished with soccer practice, so he accompanied McGee down to the lab.

The elevator hadn't so much as '_ding'-_ed their arrival, when Abby's voice called out over the music, "You're almost as good as Gibbs, guys."

Entering the lab, Tony put on a scowl. "Almost?"

Abby smiled, whirling around to face him. She tilted her head to the side. "Almost." She turned back to her computer and hit the keyboard, a fingerprint scan readily waiting for her narration. "I matched the fingerprint you sent me like an hour ago."

"Tony's and Ziva's experience of a _new_ kind…kinda threw us off schedule", McGee quipped and handed her a small caramel-colored paper bag.

"And it got me a present?" Abby took and opened the bag with giddy anticipation, producing a palette of what appeared to be chocolate bars. Their foil read _'Tof!Pow'_ in big, colorfully framed letters. "What-"

"I just found it at the store. It's the energy bar equivalent to _CafPow_", McGee explained, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It only says _'Tof'_ on the label, but it's 100% organic and- And I thought with Liora's schedule you-"

He didn't get much further in explaining himself, however, before Abby leapt towards him and shut him up with a kiss. "Thank you, Tim", she declared sweetly, welcoming his lips on hers once again.

Tony eventually cleared his throat, yanking them out of sweet twosome-ness. "How 'bout you at least pretend there's something like Rule #12?"

"As if you and Ziva don't do your own share of gerrymandering", Abby remarked, turning her attention back to her computers.

Tony's face briefly jumped into a scowl. After all, Ziva and he did have a pretty good track record of relegating their open affection to an absolute minimum at work. What with six months of keeping their relationship a secret in the beginning, they had had ample practice no matter what. Then again, the rules certainly had softened around the edges over the years.

"For all the gerrymandering going on with that rule Gibbs could've just scrapped it and gone back to a clear 50, you know...", Tony retorted casually, his eyes already concentrating on the screen.

Smiling, Abby hit _enter_ and the picture of a man popped up. He looked to be in his late thirties with short blonde-brownish hair, undiscernibly colored eyes and a markedly rotund face. "The fingerprint you found on the doorknob is his: Dustin Leahy. I started with likely candidates and his prints were in AFIS, mandatory commissioning."

"The owner of the apartment?"

"Yep."

"So, he was there after the place was cleaned, after _they_ had left", McGee clarified.

"Bring him in first thing in the morning", Tony instructed. McGee nodded and left to make the necessary call, but not before returning Abby's wink with a smile. Abby's smile faded, however, when Tony held an evidence jar up in front of her face. "Got a present for you too."

"Yay, gum", Abby observed dryly, sounding severely unimpressed. "My favorite polyisobutylene-based substance of horror."

"The bubble-gum-incident of 2020", Tony mused with a knowing grin. "Thought you finally stopped having nightmares."

Abby sighed dejectedly. "Chewing's never been the same ever since."

Tony placed the jar on the evidence table with an evocative _'clonk'_. "Happy dissecting then", he cheered, leaving Abby to glare at her newest piece of evidence.

* * *

><p>Once the third issue Tali had addressed that afternoon was the prospect of the ever so famous lasagna - that being third to her usually flamboyant greetings and the news of having received a special sticker for her latest artwork -, Ziva was left to wonder just how big of a deal Tony had made of her cooking that morning. Then again, he had probably set up the kids' exaggerated excitement just for the fun of it. Their elevator-talk was obviously well planned-ahead, so he quite possibly just wanted to ensure her thoughts would be occupied later on. He knew cooking usually relaxed her, so his train of thought was quite easy to discern there.<p>

Consequently, Ziva was busying herself in the kitchen that evening, feeling more focused on a task at hand than she had all day. Tony had called in forty minutes earlier, informing her that he was leaving the office to go and pick up David.

"Mommy?", Tali inquired suddenly. The five-year-old was lying on her stomach in the middle of the kitchen, drawing away on a yellow piece of paper.

"Yes, tateleh?", Ziva answered, stepping over the little girl to retrieve the plates from the cabinet. She briefly caught a vigilante glimpse of her daughter so as to make sure she was still only applying the crayons to the paper and not the kitchen tiling.

"You and daddy… You're together, right?"

Tali had dropped her question so casually that Ziva momentarily stopped in her tracks. She had no idea where that was coming from, but she couldn't help a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "Yes, we are."

Tali nodded, her feet dangling along. "And you love daddy and daddy loves you, right?"

"Yes", Ziva asserted easily, a smile settling on her face as she started setting the table. "Very much so."

"And you love me and Deed too."

"Yes, neshomeleh", Ziva affirmed, "More than anything in the world." She stopped next to her daughter on her way back to the oven, looking down at her inquisitively.

The moment Tali noticed her standing there, the little girl raised her sweet smile up to meet her. "How do you make it then?"

"How do you make _what_?"

"Love. How do you make it?", Tali posed sincerely, rolling onto her side and locking eyes with her mother.

Ziva was quietly taken aback by her five-year-old's question. A part of her had expected her array of inquiries to go down some lane of the sort, but this was not one she had imagined. Sure, when Ziva had gotten pregnant with Tali and the matter arose quite prominently of how they would deal with David's questions as to a baby growing in his mommy's belly, they had decided not to lie, but to break it down into child-appropriate pieces. David had more than a basic understanding of it by now, and Ziva was certain she and Tony had both had a quite comprehensive picture at about Tali's age as well. Personally, Ziva didn't have too much of an issue with it. Tony, however, was way more uncomfortable with those questions, especially when they were starting to involve his little princess.

Still collecting her thoughts, Ziva returned casually, "Did someone tell you about making love?" The moment the question had left her lips and was spreading out all around the room, Ziva realized just how incredibly weird it sounded.

Tali nodded emphatically. "Brian O'Connel said that his mommy and his daddy are really handy _all_ the time…like Uncle Gibbs when he's making a lotta noise on his boat. And he said that they were making love in their room all the time."

Ziva was left to stare at her daughter, trying hard to retain the burst of laughter that was tickling at the back of her throat from leaping forward. "Did- Did Brian's parents tell him that?"

"Uh-uh", Tali shook her head, sitting up so she could be on eye-level with Ziva, who was crouching before her. "His big brother told him and _he_ told _me_. How come you and daddy never make love? Don't ya have the right tools?"

Ziva was just about to answer, her mouth gaping and the edges of her lips slipping upwards, when the front door to their apartment was flung open. Saved by the door, that was.

"Mom!" David's voice was carried in from the foyer, sounding every bit excited.

"Shoes", Tony reprimanded, managing only half of David's volume. The eight-year-old had probably started to dash off into the living room without further ado.

Ziva turned around and looked towards the living room if just to allow her grin to spread freely. Only seconds later David emerged, cradling a black-white ball in his arms. "I scored _three_ times today!", he boasted halfway to the kitchen, a proud grin adorning his face.

"Mazel tov, tateleh!", Ziva exclaimed, engulfing her son in a hug.

"Yeah, and look what I got." He held up the ball.

"Needless to say, they won the game", Tony added, joining his family after putting away everything that David had lost on his way inside - shoes, jacket, backpack - in all his glorious excitement.

"I am _very_ proud of you." Ziva smiled down at her son, smoothing back his hair. "Go on and wash up, so we can celebrate properly."

"Okay." And with that he sprinted upstairs.

"So, how have my girls been?", Tony asked, looking between Ziva and his daughter, who had eventually abandoned her picture and was now standing beside her mother.

"Tateleh", Ziva whispered - quite loudly at that - into Tali's ear, leaning over the little girl's shoulder from behind, "Why don't you ask your daddy the question you just asked me? He knows way better than me to answer it."

Tali nodded eagerly, stepping away from Ziva and instead raising her big brown eyes to address her father, her voice very down-to-business. "Daddy, do you and mommy make love too?"

Tony's eyes immediately went wide and his voice suddenly seemed stuck somewhere down his esophagus. He looked into his daughter's expectant eyes and cleared his throat. "Well…"

When he glanced up he could see Ziva, applying the finishing touches to their lasagna, gazing back at him: a mischievous grin shining on her face. He scoffed inwardly. Payback really was a Ziva.

* * *

><p>Tim and she hadn't spent too much time at work after completing their imminent tasks. They usually saw way too little of their little girl during big cases and they both knew that their current one met every indication of becoming a big case in the near future. So, they had gladly sent Cameron home on an early evening. Finishing up in the kitchen, Abby eventually went to look for her husband and daughter. They had left to start on their goodnight-routine quite some time ago. When she arrived at Liora's room, the door was open and the soft jingling of voices was carried out into the hall.<p>

Abby couldn't help but lean against the doorframe with a sweet smile on her face, just watching Tim with Liora. He was sitting on her bed with Liora in his lap, both hands holding a book out in front of her. Abby recognized the book immediately. It was Liora's current favorite. It was handmade - that is, Abby had made it herself for her little girl's second birthday. They had celebrated the occasion a few weeks prior to Ducky's and Gibbs' departure on their semi-joint trip. Thus, the idea of creating a book about their family had budded in Abby's head: with pictures of all of them at work, at home, anywhere and in every possible combination.

Abby watched Liora touch the faces of people Tim was referring to while recounting his own version of the events that had led up to the various images. That way, Abby figured, the book would be different every time they read it. Prompted by Liora's yawn Abby finally came over and squatted down next to the bed.

"Hey there, sweetie pie", she greeted, smoothing back Liora's blonde mat of hair.

"Mama." Liora's arms instantly shot out towards her.

Abby gladly gathered her in her arms, allowing Tim to get up. "Let's get you into bed, whaddaya say?"

Liora merely nodded against her mother's shoulder, causing Tim to chuckle slightly. Their daughter could be bouncing off the walls at midnight sometimes and other times she seemed just too beat to argue with her bedtime. Abby gently placed the little girl in her bed, tucking the covers in around her. Liora immediately snuggled into her pillow, scrunching up the corner of the blanket beneath her head.

"Perfect angel", Abby remarked, smiling down at the two-year-old - actually, _and a half_.

"She looks just like you when she's sleeping."

"Supreme cuteness factor indeed." They both laughed, meeting in a kiss.

* * *

><p>Tony closed the door to David's room after reassuring himself of his son's peaceful slumber. And just like Tali, David was sleeping away the events of the day. Then again, Tali might be dreaming about wonderful miracles - Tony faintly remembered talking his way out of her question with those words or something equally vague. When he entered the master bedroom he found it drenched in complete darkness. Ziva was lying on her side, facing away from him. It looked like she had never even touched the book on her nightstand. Tony released a small sigh and crawled under the covers next to her.<p>

He tucked both his arms beneath his head, watching the slow heaving of her shoulders for a while. Eventually, however, he knew he had to ask. "You awake?", he whispered. He waited, but no answer came. "I know you're mad, but-"

"I am not mad", Ziva returned finally, her eyes snapping open but remaining in her position. "You were right with what you said."

"I know…", Tony breathed, his hand finding a gentle place on her shoulder.

"But I am mad at myself", Ziva continued, turning to face him with a sudden jolt of exasperation. "Every time I allowed my feelings to interfere with my work in the past…the _consequences_…" She let her sentence drift off into their respective memories.

A small smile formed on Tony's lips. "This is different, I get it. It's about the kids." He moved his hand to the side of her face. "That's what makes you so different from your father. And I love you even more for that."

A soft laugh dripped from her lips before she took hold of his hand against her face and kissed it. Then she leaned over and caught his lips, their eyes locking. Ziva only moved an inch away from him, her brows furrowing ever so slightly. "Tell me this will last", she requested, her voice so quiet it was almost indiscernible.

Tony captured the sincerity burning in her eyes. Still, a smile erupted on his face, unable to bear the seriousness of a straight answer. "I thought I promised that ten years ago?"

Ziva's face, however, only hinted at a smile, her eyes retaining the solemnity she needed. "Tell me this will not be taken away from us."

Tony stared at her, the smile on his face fading. "I promise you, we won't ever let that happen." He leaned over, kissed her forehead, and wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to hold onto his embrace. _He could promise that, right?_

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: New people, old faces and - blood. <strong>Review.<strong>  
><em>


	13. Hauling in what has been gone

_Happy new chapter y'all! _I've just had an intense one-on-one with my muse the last couple of days and guys, there's so much more excitement coming your way! And _once again, a wholehearted THANK YOU to my reviewers - you make my day!___

_**Robern:** Suspense is part of the game!_

_**ChEmMiE:** There's a reason Eli was in the teaser - parts of it will clear up soon, I promise._

*** * * * possible spoiler * * * ***

_In post-celebration of the milestone: As of #NCIS200 I like to think of FanFiction as part of a big "What if..."-universe. Look out for a nod to the episode in one of the upcoming chapters, just because it's fun. _

_*** * * * possible spoiler * * * ***_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 13 Hauling in what has been gone<strong>

**Wednesday, March 24****th**** 2021 **

Tony strolled into the lab around lunchtime with a smile straddling his face and cradling a freshly vending-machined _CafPow_ in one hand, a folder in the other. The music was there alright, but Abby was not.

"You know, I was starting to feel very _Lab Alone_", Abby called out to him, emerging from her office with the swooshing of opening glass doors.

Tony's scowling eyebrows quickly rose in a slightly apologetic expression. He held up the folder. "I was fielding joint assessments with the Director all morning."

Abby stopped at the level of the front desk, cocking her head to the side. "My husband-"

"McGee's been trying to break through Mr. Leahy's slightly annoying, but no less admirable work ethic with every law enforced threat in the book for over an hour."

"Ziva-"

Tony held up the admittedly thick folder even higher. "International alphabet soup."

"I have your results since three hours ago", Abby asserted, eyeing him probingly.

"I know."

"You-"

"I know", Tony repeated, holding up the oversized cup in his hand as well. Thus far he had kept it half-hidden behind his back but now, in full view, three _TofPow_ bars were revealed, taped to the reddish surface of Abby's liquid addiction. "My sources confirmed the affirmative."

A smile spread on Abby's face as she adopted the cup with evident reverence. Tony's grin persisted and he followed her to the computers. She lightly tapped the mouse to her right and pulled up a chart plotting some strange chemical composition. "Testing the gum you gave me, I found traces of a small-scale sedative."

Tony scanned the figures onscreen. "As in roofie?"

"Small-scale, Tony. Not _Hangover_-style", Abby corrected, smiling.

Tony's eyes gained a faraway glisten. "Ah, old times…", he revered. "Indie smash turned reheated smush." He slightly shook his head for emphasis of his mental discomfort.

Abby merely frowned a little. "According to _Major Mass-Spec_, compounds and dosage suggest that the person chewing this gum has some kind of low-level spasticity disorder."

"Gum as meds?"

"Not too unusual. It's more easily integrated in everyday routines, the substances get transferred to the bloodstream way faster and then you have all sorts of psychological reasons", Abby elaborated quickly.

Tony nodded. "So, if it's medical issue, anything on manufacturer, product ID?", he asked, casting a quick glance at the evidence table.

"Nope, nothing. I did all kinds of tests with the gum wrapper, but nothing useful."

"DNA?" Tony's eyes widened hopefully.

Abby pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. "The gum's a little too far gone. The sample I pulled from the saliva is _really_ degenerated, which makes it worthless for running a CODIS-search. But with a little magic-"

"You might be able to confirm a suspect…if we ever get our hands on one", Tony clarified, the wheels in his head starting to turn. "I'll get Leahy's samples to you as soon as we convince him to…_release_ them." He was just about to leave, having added another item to his already crammed briefing-list, but Abby caught hold of his arm.

"Wait", she added quickly, pulling up a list of figures and dates on her computer. "From the level of decomposition I can estimate that the gum isn't older than a week."

Tony looked at her, chewing a little at the inside of his cheek. "So, someone was definitely there."

* * *

><p>McGee had just finished filling out all forms, sending out all reports and writing detailed messages to all people, firms and departments Dustin Leahy had requested to be consulted on the legal correctness of his interview and to be notified of said interview, accounting for all random failures. If he hadn't known any better, an indolent observer might have ruled Mr. Leahy a very important person. And he was - for some, McGee hoped; but the conundrum surrounding his upcoming questioning certainly wasn't at all warranted.<p>

He had just turned to his daily e-mail-routine, when an official notification caught his eye that had been issued to Gibbs, and had for some reason been forwarded to him. "You remember Hank Galvaston?", he called across the bullpen, glancing at Ziva over the rim of his computer.

Hank Galvaston had been a late suspect and the eventual perpetrator in a con scheme that had cost the life of a Marine PFC at the latter's homecoming party. Galvaston was the uncle of the Marine's foster sister, who had manipulated her way through foster homes almost all her life while Galvaston had been running an efficient robbery business on the side. More than that, however, he had been the abusive source of the mental and physical scars driving his niece to start over with every new foster family, to pretend being under age and to seek relief of her torment. Ziva had been seven weeks pregnant at that time. They had theorized more than enough as for her reasons - maybe hormones, maternal instincts or heightened acuity of senses -, but during the bust Ziva had almost lunged at Galvaston's throat if it hadn't been for Gibbs' hand on her shoulder.

Instantly, Ziva's index froze in mid-air above the _'J'_ she was about to type. He mouth gaped for a moment, then she breathed, "Yes."

"Just got released from prison, good conduct", McGee asserted, quickly scanning the message.

Ziva scoffed, resuming the sentence she had just abandoned. "Not enough."

McGee nodded, closing the message somberly and filing it away in Tony's digitalized joint folder. Allowing his look to drift towards Ziva once more, he realized her eyes had gained a somewhat faraway glisten - like they were running down images and unspoken words. In an attempt to re-engage her mind, he perked up, "Gibbs or Tony?"

A soft smile erupted on Ziva's face and she stopped her current task, leaning onto her desk. "The truckload of garbage?"

"Gibbs", McGee declared at once. "He'd so have ducked out on that one."

Ziva chuckled. "Probably."

"The bust?"

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Tony." They both knew that Tony probably would have refrained from restraining her the way Gibbs had, allowing his partner in field and love to roughen up that abusive bastard - for reasons too numerous to count.

"Speaking the name of your fearless leader", Tony quipped, entering the bullpen with the same folder he had left it with, but sans_ CafPow_ treat.

Regaining her focus, Ziva glanced up only for a moment before returning to her typing. "We were merely playing a round of '_Gibbs or Tony'_", she stated casually, enjoying the sudden confusion on her partner's face with a quick smirk.

McGee's grin was much more evocative and he took it upon himself to relieve Tony's scowl. "It's a game we invented for whenever old cases pop back up that still have Gibbs' name on them", he explained matter-of-factly, attracting all of Tony's attention. "We pick memorable events about the case and guess what you would have done just like…_Gibbs-_"

"Or if you would have chosen a more…_innate_ approach", Ziva substituted.

"Hence the _Tony_, Tony." McGee smiled.

"If so…", Tony mused, slowly striding across the bullpen to stand in front of Ziva's desk, "You _were_ pregnant with my child, so I probably would have just clocked that guy myself." They locked eyes as a small smile graced Tony's lips.

"That file for me?", Ziva asked, pointing at Tony's hand without taking her eyes from his.

"Nope", he answered, producing a much smaller file from behind her computer, "But this is." He then turned towards McGee. "Leahy?"

"Upstairs, conference room as you requested", McGee confirmed, unable to keep a quick frown off his face.

"Good, get him to _Interrogation_-"

"But-"

"I just wanted him to notice the difference between the rooms", Tony explained, stepping up to McGee's desk and cocking an eyebrow. "Just make sure he knows his rights…and his wavers."

"And I will be doing the waving?", Ziva inquired evenly, snatching the file from Tony's hand and taking a glimpse at the intel acquired thus far.

Tony turned around and smiled. "You'll start out Exley and finish up White." Ziva looked up and narrowed her eyes questioningly, shutting the file. "L.A. Confidential? The movie we watched a few years ago? The one of a thousand _'I did that'_-moments?"

"Ah yes…", Ziva remembered fondly, the edges of her mouth slipping upwards.

Tony held up a small paper bag in response. "Be gentle", he quipped, giving his head an approving jolt.

* * *

><p>Tony and Ziva watched from <em>Observation<em> as McGee led Dustin Leahy into the adjacent _Interrogation Room_, an ever so undiscernibly polite expression on his face. Leahy was about half a head smaller and much broader around the middle than the agent, his blonde-brownish hair was short and evident work had been invested into creating that strictly differential Ivy League haircut. He was wearing a grey suit, white shirt, grey-white tie and light black shoes. Sitting down, Ziva realized even his socks matched the shade of grey omnipresent in his getup. She couldn't help but cast a swift glance at the man standing beside her, Tony's outfit mimicking the same color-diligence despite sporting a three-piece today.

"You saw the report Leahy filed three days ago?", Tony inquired, his eyes not leaving the onslaught of cajoling on McGee's part.

Ziva nodded. "McGee told me this morning."

"I am not sure what qualifies me to be here of all places", Leahy declared on the other side of the glass, following McGee's emphatic request to sit down facing the mirror.

"My cue", Ziva stated beyond the glass, exchanging her file for Tony's bag and leaving the room with a knowing smile. She met McGee in the hallway and the two agents quickly swapped doors.

In a moment's time Dustin Leahy was not looking at a male agent with an all-business expression anymore, but at a woman wearing olive cargo pants and a white blouse, her hair cascading down her sides in elaborate curls.

"Mr. Leahy", Ziva slightly slurred his name, her breath of a voice divulging all the foreignness of her Israeli accent. She had spent all morning translating joint commands from and to Tel Aviv. Denying her accent was still almost impossible even after so many years of living in the U.S., but bouts of Hebrew usually thickened her accent for a while - something she could at least utilize to her advantage if need be.

Stepping over to the table, she could feel his eyes on her but refrained from saying anything. Instead, she opened the brown paper bag and slowly, diligently positioned item after item on the table, neatly aligning them with its long side: small tube, cotton swab, a 2x0.5x3.5 inch fingerprint scanner. Then she sat down, briefly rearranging the scanner, and folded up the bag to a thick rectangular cube, which she placed in line with the other things.

When she finally lifted her brown eyes up to meet his gaze, Leahy flinched at the sudden visual contact. Ziva let a small smile drop from her lips and folded her hands on the table. "Mr. Leahy…you own several apartments in Washington Highlands. Is that correct?"

"Yes", he answered curtly, his palms resting on his thighs. "It makes for a nice auxiliary income."

Ziva huffed, nodding along as her right index finger started tapping the tabletop ever so lightly. "Auxiliary income", she repeated, her eyes narrowing, "I know about those myself."

Leahy's eyes started to twitch back and forth between Ziva's intense stare and her finger dribbling the metal surface. "I- I don't know how this is of- of relevance. I'm an insurance clerk with _S-N-Cu_-"

"We know all that, Mr. Leahy", Ziva interrupted, leaning in and lowering her voice. "We know a lot of things, you know?" She tilted her finger, so that the hollow clunks turned into sharp fingernail-induced stiletto-ticks.

Leahy's eyes came to rest on the continuing noise. "To my knowledge, everything is in perfect order with all of my assets. And in any case, I don't know how this would touch on the responsibilities of Navy Investigation-"

"You would be surprised to know all of our responsibilities", Ziva asserted ominously. "Homicide, kidnapping, interrogation, espionage…_terrorism_." In one swift movement she stopped the clanging of her finger and stood up, scraping her chair along the tiling beneath her.

Leahy's eyes momentarily remained with the phantom noise of her fingernail before he turned in order to re-face her. Ziva was already leaning against the wall next to the plasma screen, all ten of her fingers playing up and down the musical scale on either of her sides. Once again it seemed hard for Leahy to concentrate on anything but the rhythmical movement of Ziva's fingers against the wall.

"Tell me about the apartment you rent on Garrison Street", Ziva demanded, her voice getting lower.

"It is a…a small three-room", he started, persistently unable to tear his eyes away from her hands, his own starting to twitch nervously against his thighs. "The paperwork is current, the last inspection was less than a year ago. It's-"

Ziva cocked her head to the side. "Do you watch TV, Mr. Leahy?"

His mouth gaped for a moment. "Ye- Yes, but-"

"Have you ever seen one of these primetime crime procedurals?", she asked, slowing down the pace of her continuing tapping. He nodded vaguely. "And are their questions…_ever_ about paperwork and inspections?"

Like a kindergartener eager to ace a pop quiz, the answer was instantly dangling from his lips. Before the lone syllable could leave his mouth, however, Leahy became acutely aware of his surroundings. "Am I being interrogated?", he inquired, his voice lacking color.

At once Ziva pushed herself off the wall and lunged forward, planting both of her palms prominently on the table in front of him. Leahy's eyes immediately slipped down, fixating them. "Are you?", Ziva countered, her voice but a breath, her face but a few inches from his.

"I-"

"We have reliable intel that connects an active terrorist group to that apartment and _your_-", she explicated in a low voice, banging her palms on the table, "_fingerprints_ were found there after the whole place had been swiped clean."

Leahy tried to jam some distance between Ziva's face and his, his feet tapping nervously against the floor beneath them. "I don't-"

"The truth", Ziva barked, letting the table scratch against the tiling with a quick jerk of her hands.

While Dustin Leahy shot upright in his chair, his eyes locking on Ziva's stare, Tony and McGee shared a look in the other room. They had just witnessed the man break into a million pieces. Tony couldn't help but feel transported back to Ziva's first years with NCIS, those very first interrogations - and even the occasional one after that - when the furious and methodical glint of a trained interrogator had been not at all concealed by the intense color in her eyes.

Having been at the receiving end of more vicious techniques, however, Ziva usually preferred not tapping back into those skills, preferring the methods Gibbs had taught her by observation. Still, Tony couldn't deny their occasional effectiveness - in a scaled-down manner. And sure, he could have let her go lighter on a man like Dustin Leahy, but they had to ensure full-truths. Half-truths just seemed too risky at the moment. Maybe Ziva's fears, induced by sensitive instincts both as a mother and an agent, had somehow shifted Tony's perspective on their current case. Yet, he battled the lingering feeling that this wasn't their usual _howcatchem,_ but something perilously different.

"I- I- I've been…renting the apartment to the same man for decades", Leahy answered.

The answer satisfied Ziva only insofar as she allowed a little more air between the two of them. "Name."

"Jared Cooper", Leahy offered quickly, blinking ten miles a second. "But I've never even met the man. Well, yes…when he came to sign the contract and I gave him the keys, but never once after that. But that's- that's not unusual, I- I get the money each month on the dot, he's never late, never tardy-"

Ziva gave a small nod, once again her finger slightly knocking against the tabletop. On the other side of the glass Tony nodded towards McGee and the younger agent left to start a preliminary check on the new turn of name.

"Your fingerprints", Ziva reminded him.

"I have no- _no_ idea how they got there, I swear. I haven't been to the apartment for months. I usually do checkups every year, but Mr. Cooper always- He always told me to use my spare since he was gone on- on business, I assumed-"

Ziva arched an eyebrow. "All the time?"

Leahy started fumbling his fingers against the sides of his thighs. "He told me- When he took the apartment, he told me it was just a part-time apartment for- for whenever he was on business in Washington… Something small to- to-"

Ziva narrowed her eyes to inquisitive slits, studying the expression on Leahy's face. "What…else?", she asked slowly.

"Nothing, really", he declared, his eyes widening. "That's all about the apartment-"

"What…", Ziva whispered, leaning back in, "Else?"

"Are you referring to my report-", Leahy started, meeting Ziva's brief nod. "I was mugged on the street a few blocks from my house three days ago. I did not get a good look at the aggressor- He- he knocked me out."

"You are positive he was a…_he_, yes?", Ziva retorted.

Leahy's mouth opened, but he eventually chose not to respond to her comment. "He took my wallet, but other than my jaw still hurting like hell there's-"

Ziva tilted her head forward a little, stopping his account immediately. He followed her with uncertain eyes as she inspected the yellowish blue discoloration along his right jawline, any jugular traces of the punch vanishing behind his creamy white collar.

"I don't remember anything, I tell you", he reinforced, straining to keep from staring at her.

Ziva quickly caught his eyes before leaving her position beside him and returning to her seat on the opposite side of the table. "I believe you", she stated calmly, starting to push the previously bagged items towards him. "Just one more thing…"

Leahy eyed her suspiciously.

* * *

><p>Returning to the hallway outside <em>Interrogation<em>, Ziva found Tony already waiting for her with an emphatic grin on his face. She skillfully slipped the cotton swab into its designated tube and re-bagged Leahy's DNA-sample together with the fingerprint scanner. In mutual stride they set out for the elevator.

"He tells the truth", Ziva asserted.

"I know." Tony nodded. Looking over, he could see the inquisitive glisten in her eyes. "What?"

"Cooper. Would it not make you suspicious, if you did not see your tenant for years and years?"

"Me personally? Probably", Tony answered quickly. "But you saw the apartment. Cooper obviously kept it in good shape and paid his rent. Leahy's not the only landlord who doesn't ask questions as long as the money's getting in."

They fell silent waiting for the elevator and on their ride to the squadroom, both replaying the information Leahy had just provided in their heads. That interrogation pretty much scrapped Leahy off the list of suspects, even though they still had the fingerprint mystery to account for. Two levels short of their destination, Tony quickly glanced at his partner. For a moment he played with the thought of hooking his arm around her waist, slipping in a moment of intimacy the way he usually did. He could feel his hand twitch with the plan, but eventually he didn't go through. When the elevator announced the end of twosome-ness he briefly wondered why, though.

Back in the bullpen Ziva immediately settled back in her chair, placing the bag next to her on the desk so as to remind herself of taking it downstairs to the lab later. Then she retrieved the scanner and plugged it on the compatible attachment so that she could file away Leahy's prints for archiving reasons and to complete Abby's three-piece selection. In the meantime, Tony perched himself on his desk, eyeing McGee over the rim of the latter's screen.

McGee briefly glanced up to confirm Tony's stare. "I backtracked that Cooper guy from Leahy's accounts", he explained, not halting the typing attack on his keyboard.

"And?"

Flicking a button, bank statements appeared on the plasma screen beside him. Tony and Ziva instantly took a stand in front of it. "Each month the same amount of money is paid into his account. That roughly covers all his withdrawals", McGee started narrating, zooming in on a particularly short itemizing.

Tony blinked. "Considerate asset management, I'd say."

"Yes, but the odd thing is, there are only two withdrawals made and always to the same recipients."

"Rent to Leahy", Ziva piped up, confirming Leahy's name on the screen.

"And to a lockbox rental here in D.C.", McGee added.

"That's it?"

McGee halfway rolled his eyes. "I got the address for the rental. Already forwarded it to your phones." Ziva nodded and turned to retrieve her backpack when McGee's voice stopped her short. "There's more."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "What, McScoop?"

Alternating his gaze between the other two agents, McGee smacked his lips, his eyes swiftly dropping to his computer. Tackling the designated shortcut, he pulled an official-looking document up on the plasma. "Cooper's been dead for thirty years."

Both Tony and Ziva, their eyes wide with confusion, returned to the middle of the bullpen and both stared at the death certificate awaiting their verification. "Died in 1992", Ziva read.

"So, where are the deposits coming from?", Tony inquired incredulously.

"That's where it gets…_hinky_", McGee declared, fending off Tony's brief glare. "I can't trace the money. It leads to some offshore bogus-bank and the trail goes cold from there."

"Someone took Cooper's identity."

"But not to impersonate him, but to keep the lease on the apartment and on the lockbox", Ziva mused.

"So, what's Cooper's story?", Tony pressed on.

"Marine Sergeant, died in a liquor store shooting."

Tony nodded, his eyes returning to the document on screen. "Case agent?"

McGee opened the digital file archives, searching for Cooper's name. Hitting in his authorization code, he conjured the file up on the plasma, all three pairs of eyes drifting to the name issued on the bottom of the page. Ziva was the first to allow a scoff to leave her lips. "Gibbs."

Tony chimed in with a low chuckle, slightly shaking his head. Fate had a funny way of affirming its grip on life. "I guess, Rule #38 applies, huh?", he quipped, leaving the bullpen.

* * *

><p>After Ziva and McGee had watched Tony stride off towards the elevator and shared a somewhat meaningful look, both of them had retreated to their respective computers. Tony had returned half an hour later, informing them that he couldn't reach either Gibbs or Ducky, who the report had stated as the responsible ME. Ducky simply hadn't answered and Gibbs' phone was obviously out of order again. Consequently, they had spent a good portion of their afternoon trying to contact Gibbs or Ducky - with decidedly little success. Ziva had sent an e-mail to the addresses she knew Ducky was currently using, Abby had tried different emergency numbers that Gibbs had given her at the beginning of the month and McGee had tried locating various Gibbs-associated items via GPS or satellite.<p>

When Tony and Ziva entered the small office space that held Cooper's lockbox - armed with a court order -, they had not heard back from either of the two men, however. For all they knew, it would take days until they heard back from them. For all they knew, they could have been sucked in by a hole in the Atlantic, too.

Pushing all their thoughts pertaining to Gibbs' or Ducky's whereabouts to the back of their heads, Ziva and Tony had eventually pried the clerk away from her online shopping trip long enough to open the lockbox issued under Cooper's name. Ziva couldn't help but be reminded of the last locker she had opened during their bizarre and life-threatening case two-and-a-half years ago. Back then, the opening had uncovered a severed hand. This time, however, they recovered a simple key.

"I cannot believe it…", Ziva whispered, her eyes glued to the small piece of rusty metal.

"I'm with you on that one. No way are we ever gonna find the rusty old door to fit our rusty old key", Tony lamented, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets upon leaving the stuffy office.

"I do not think we have to", Ziva said slowly, turning towards him. "I know the door."

* * *

><p>Returning to the Navy Yard later on, they had dutifully filed a report and relayed the newest turn of events to McGee. Ziva had briefly shared the privileged knowledge she seemed to harbor on the distinct circumstances surrounding a mysterious key in a lockbox in downtown Washington. Nonetheless, ruling all immediate leads futile or too random to even follow up on, and minding the kids' schedule, they had eventually called it a day. For Tony and Ziva, it was a rare treat to be picking up the kids together. They could at least revel in that fact, even if a breakthrough in the case had never seemed further away.<p>

Later that evening, Tony and Ziva were cleaning away the remainders of their dinner, while Tali and David had been long gone to squeeze in another game before their bedtime. When Ziva stretched to put one of the pans in the top shelf, Tony came up behind her and started kissing her neck. They had yet to retain the feeling of normalcy in their togetherness, a feeling not tainted by fear and insecurities. They really couldn't do anything about anything, so they could just as well try to go on - despite their heightened alert levels.

He could feel her clenching, hesitating for a second before realizing her sudden smile was its cause. His hands slowly trailed from her hips upwards and Ziva slightly tilted her head, catching his lips with hers. She had just turned around in his arms, her fingers grazing through his hair, when a loud scream interrupted their physical banter.

"Mom!"

With the reaction time of trained federal agents Ziva and Tony let go of each other and sprinted up the stairs. David's voice had sounded far too panicked for them to linger a second longer. Tony reached the top of the stairs first and found their son, alarm written all over his face.

"Tali-", the little boy breathed, pointing towards his sister's room.

"Tali what?", Tony asked, trying to stay calm and to not further upset the eight-year-old.

When Ziva reached them, she disregarded Tony's need for clarification and immediately pushed the door to Tali's room open. There the little girl was sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her face, and holding her right wrist. Blood was oozing all over her hands. Pieces of glass were littered around her.

Ziva quickly dropped to her knees next to her daughter and reached for her arm. Tali shrunk back. "It's okay, tateleh. Let me see your arm", Ziva educed softly, starting to draw circles on the little girl's back to soothe her breathless sobs.

"What happened?", Tony asked as he and David entered the room and the blood caused every muscle in his body to clench.

"We were playing ball and I missed Tali and hit the glass and she slipped and her hand-" Tony could only look at him.

"Tony, get the disinfectant and the bandage kit", Ziva called over in serene calm, breaking his train of thoughts. Tony nodded and left.

Once again Ziva reached for Tali's arm, this time more forceful in her pursuit. Hushing Tali's incessant whimpers, she gently pried the little girl's hand away and revealed a nasty looking gash underneath a veil of blood. Tali shrieked as the pain suddenly became much more real. She tried to reach for it again, tried to hide it again, but Ziva adamantly held onto both of her arms and whispered soft comforts.

When Tony returned, he crouched down on the floor next to Ziva and handed the supplies to his partner. In situations like these they had a clear set-up of roles. Ziva's emergency and Mossad training rendered her by far the more efficient first-aider while Tony was more than adept at diffusing the situation. So, when Ziva nodded towards their daughter's uninjured hand and murmured a curt _'Tony'_, he knew exactly what to do. Tony took a gentle hold of Tali's hand and cautiously hooked his other hand around her thighs.

"Hey, Tali, look at daddy", Tony elicited tenderly, searching for her terrified eyes that were fixed on her mother's hand and the blood trickling from the cut. He repeated his words a few more times before Tali finally followed his request. He smiled at her. "It's gonna be okay. Don't you worry. Your mom's _the_ best at making cuts not hurt anymore."

"Re- Really?", Tali hiccupped through her own sobs.

Tony nodded. A sideways glance and her brief smile told him Ziva remembered as well: After all, she had been tending to a gash on his shoulder when their lips had met in their very first kiss - not counting the odd undercover op. Another shriek escaped Tali's lips when Ziva started cleaning out the wound with the disinfectant. The piercing shot of pain caused the little girl to jerk back, but Tony held her firmly in place within a rain of _'It's okay'_s and _'Don't worry'_s. Keeping his eyes interlocked with their distressed daughter, Tony's eyebrows rose quickly when Ziva put the bloody fabric away.

"It is not very deep", she explained, smiling encouragingly at the five-year-old. "It is only a small cut, tateleh. Everything will be alright."

Tali inhaled deeply, silent tears still cascading down her cheeks and choked hiccups shuddered through her small body. Tony knowingly drew her into him, allowing her to lean against him and release her enduring sobs into his shirt while Ziva bandaged up her arm. When she was finished, she placed a soft kiss onto it.

She smiled at her daughter, caressing the little girl's wayward curls. "All better now."

"Hurts", Tali whimpered, leaning into her mother's touch.

Tony looked at his partner pointedly. "Pain meds?", he suggested quietly, keeping up the comforting rhythm of stroking his daughter's back.

Ziva shook her head almost unnoticeably, keeping her eyes on Tali. "She will sleep. Only when she wakes up from it."

Tony nodded. Then Ziva's eyes fell on Tali's other hand, still bloody from pressing onto her gash. The little girl followed her mother's gaze and instantly her sobs re-intensified. "Let's get you cleaned up, yes?", she suggested sweetly, soaking another slip of gauze with disinfectant.

"Here", Tony gently lifted Tali into her mother's arms. "I'll take care of the glass."

Ziva nodded and got up with their daughter. She settled down in the rocking chair they had only recently relocated from the master bedroom to Tali's room since the little girl had found it a conveniently multifaceted prop in her many games. Tali snuggled into her mother's embrace, her whimpers slowly subsiding beneath Ziva's soothing whispers. While she gently cleaned away the stains of caked blood from her daughter's hand, Tali's eyes grew heavier with the waning residue of shock in her system. Soon she had drifted off to sleep, breathing deeply and heavily in her mother's arms. Ziva couldn't bring herself to put the little girl into her bed just now, though. So, she remained in the rocking chair, rocking back and forth and listing to her daughter sleeping.

When he had cleared away the shards of glass, Tony returned for another glance at the pair. For a moment he found himself mesmerized by the simple comfort of looking at his daughter and his partner. He breathed away the shock of seeing the blood and his little girl in its midst. Then he turned around and made a beeline for his son's room. David had left the scene the moment Ziva had declared everything back to alright.

He slowly opened the door and found his son lying on his stomach in his bed, ostensibly reading. But Tony could see the heaving of his small body, beset with choked sobs. A small smile escaped Tony's lips. He went over and sat down on the edge of the bed. David didn't pull away when Tony placed a gentle hand on his back.

"Your sister's sleeping now." David nodded, pretending to keep reading. Tony looked at him for another moment, softly stroking his son's back. Then he decided to ask the obvious just for the breaking effect of it. "You okay?"

David heaved a ragged breath. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not", Tony declared quickly.

"But we- we were play- playing ball and-" A hiccup cut his account direly short.

"Well, that's another story", Tony said good-naturedly. "You shouldn't play ball in your rooms, you know that. But Tali cutting herself on the broken glass, that's really not your fault."

"But I- I- I broke the glass", the little boy whispered. He finally abandoned his book and sat up, leaning against the wall.

"Look at me", Tony elicited sweetly, adding upon finding his son's gaze, "It's not your fault."

"But-"

"No more playing ball inside. Next time you're playing anything _but_ ball you'll just be more careful. Easy as that." Tony smiled encouragingly.

David nodded dutifully. "You're not mad?" Tony shook his head. "Mom-"

"Your mom's not mad either, don't worry."

David nodded again. "Tali's okay?"

"Sure she is", Tony nodded. "Your mom fixed her up. She won't feel a thing when she wakes up. Everything's okay… Okay?" David waited a few heartbeats, then nodded his head. But when Tony opened his arms, the eight-year-old gladly fell into his father's embrace. Tony kissed the top of his son's head. "Good."

Later that night, Tali had already been fast asleep for an hour, Ziva entered David's room for their goodnight-routine. The little boy was already tucked in beneath the covers. The reading light attached to the headboard of his bed was bestowing a low glimmer of light on the book he was reading - for real this time. He only noticed his mother when she sat down on his bed. He looked up to find her smiling back at him.

"I'm really sorry, mom", he said slowly.

"I know you are", Ziva returned softly, caressing his cheek. It was funny how Rule #6 instantly invaded her mind - she really felt very conditioned. But it would have been out of place. No matter Gibbs' adamancy, she found apologizing a way of learning about responsibility in her children's case.

"I didn't mean to, really."

"I know that, tateleh. And it is not your fault. It was an accident. Accidents happen."

"You're not mad?"

Ziva smiled reassuringly. She turned and settled down next to her son on the bed, slinging an arm around him. "No, I am not mad." She leaned down and placed a kiss on his head. "Want me to finish that chapter for you?", she asked, indicating the book in his hand.

David looked up at her with a small smile and nodded his head. Ziva took the book from him and squatted down a little, so that she was sitting more comfortably and her shoulder was more accessible for her son's head. The eight-year-old scooted closer, snuggling against his mother as she started to read.

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: another trip down memory lane - November 2010. <strong>Review.<strong>  
><em>


	14. Rome's the place

**Chap 14 Intermezzo - Part 2  
><strong>_or: Rome's the Place_

**November 2010**

Tony had been going on and on about the movie they had watched the other night ever since leaving the Navy Yard together. Ziva knew he had wholeheartedly enjoyed it, he had given her more than evocative proof of that. She herself - not so much, but thus far she had been wise enough not to challenge his taste. Tony had been in too good a mood lately, drawing her right along on his joy ride. She had no intention of turning this into one of their match plays. Rather, it was one of those times she simply enjoyed listening to him, watching his expressions oscillate between ingenuous excitement and creative passion.

When they arrived at the alley, however, their car parked and their guns holstered, Ziva decided to remind him of their imminent task. "You realize we are supposed to be luring out the suspect, not give him a sets-up that we are here, yes?", she remarked, quickly peering around the corner.

"Heads-up, as in thing from the neck up", Tony corrected quickly, standing a little behind her. "And we don't even know if he's here. It's not like he was at any of the _other_ places we've been looking for _three_ hours."

"He is homeless, Tony. It is not like we can just trace his mail to find him", Ziva retorted, shooting him a glare before signaling him to follow her. They turned into a street flanked by high brick buildings, dumpsters lining up the walls, thick vapor rising from exhaust pipes all around them.

"All the more reason to pass our time with the _homely_ pleasures of our _home_bound activities", Tony argued dismissively. Ziva merely rolled her eyes. "Like did on those stairs last night. Drove it right _home,_ they did."

Remembering the scene he was referring to, Ziva whirled around to face him. "Would you _please_ stop it, Tony", she half-laughed, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Tony's grin merely intensified, though. "Oh, don't be a prude, Ziva. So what? They shagged on the stairs. I bet _you_ have some kinky places on your résumé yourself."

The words had barely made it past his lips, striking through the midday vapor, when Tony realized what he had just alluded to. Of all the things he could have referenced, it just had to be the sex scene. Inside, he started slapping himself. He could see it in her eyes. They had immediately clouded over and he could see it all. Maybe he hadn't looked close enough before, maybe he hadn't dared to care as much as he did now, but it was all so obvious.

That wasn't the first time he had seen that look in her eyes either. That look of deep uncertainty and, if he didn't find a better word for it: worthlessness. Not that he could ever think of Ziva as worthless. She had always been anything _but_ to him. Ziva had always held a special kind of worth to him even if he did not admit it to himself or to her. In the past months, however, he dared ranking her worth above everyone and everything else. No, it was her own feeling of worthlessness, of humiliation, of defilement that transgressed the brown in her amber eyes. The first time he had ever seen that look had been during one of those over-long cases, when they would spend more time at the office than at home for a seemingly endless amount of time.

Ever since their mission in Paris, ever since talking through that entire night, they were working on restoring their friendship. More even, they had dared to admit how important they truly were to each other. They had since reinstated their weekly movie nights, too. For almost a year Ziva had tried hard to ease herself into new routines, spending all her time either at the Navy Yard, at home, at the gym or - for seven months after Somalia - at her therapist's office. Ever since their mission in Paris, however, ever since recognizing her place in other people's hearts and lives, she had slowly started going out again, meeting Tony for drinks after work, visiting the odd movie festival or concert. There had even been that one impromptu reunion he had begged her to attend with him - even though that had ended in a veritable disaster.

Ziva had never once initiated anything. Their first movie night since before Somalia had been more than awkward. He had quickly realized that her walls were thicker, more obstinate and all-encompassing than ever before. She had always allowed only glimpses at herself, but prior to Somalia she had covered that intense sense of isolation with spirited mischievousness. That spirit, he had realized, was gone and more than anything replaced by a yearning to be who she wanted to be. In that sense, the rocky re-start they had fought through had also been a point of ingress. Instance after instance had taught him to be careful in trying to circumvent pieces and bits of her walls, careful not to cause her sudden retreat - in doing so, equally allowing Ziva a glance beyond his rough exterior.

So, somewhen around that time they had been working a particularly intricate case. Tony hadn't seen Ziva for hours, each of them following different leads. Trying for different measures than his tenth cup of coffee, he had wandered down to the shower rooms with the clear intention of splashing his face with ice-cold water until his eyes would open up again. He had opened the door without a second thought. He had stepped into the room without announcing himself. And looking to his left, he had seen her: Ziva standing in front of the mirrors, a pile of clothing in front of her. She had only worn her bra and for the first time ever he had laid eyes on the scars covering her sides and back. It hadn't been that long since they had started healing, all the more prominent had they been on her tanned skin. Some were still red, inflamed for they had gotten infected by dirt, by feces or their healing had been deliberately suspended with salty liquids.

Tony knew that she had noticed him the moment he had entered the room. Rather than facing him, however, she had first slipped into a fresh shirt, had folded her dirty clothes and bagged them. When she had finally turned, he had seen that look in her eyes for the first time: worthlessness, humiliation, defilement. His mouth had opened, but no word had left his lips. She had brushed past him, dodging his eyes for the remainder of the case, and then maxed out her remaining comp time: not taking his calls, not answering his texts, ignoring his messages.

He knew that he should have taken the initiative back then, knocking on her door and forcing her to answer if only to stop her neighbors from calling the police. He knew he should have, but eventually he hadn't. He had waited, passively, until she had returned to work. He had cautiously commented and quipped his way back to her smile and things had ultimately gone back to normal - or the kind of normal they had since had adopted.

Back then, Tony hadn't been sure - of his feelings, of her feelings, or a future that could have been. That's why his showing up on her doorstep that night, apologizing and congratulating her on her passport, had been such a big deal: The Ziva he had once known was dead. The Ziva he was now dealing with was too friable to challenge possible disappointment, to make a move - and yet, she was scared not to be in control.

But those were realizations of the past. Tony knew what he wanted now: He wanted Ziva, he wanted to be with her. Every time she had opened up to him in the past few months he had known it a little bit more. He wanted to be with her, know her, understand her. But he knew he had to be patient. And that understanding made him so acutely aware of what he had just done. They could easily dance around the issues, brush against them on the surface just to test their boundaries. Right then, however, he had hurtled across the biggest boundary there was and he knew it.

He took a step forward, but she took two steps away from him at the same time. Her eyes drifted from his grasp, hiding the pain of memories from his all too vigilante gaze. "Ziva, I'm-"

Tony stopped when he saw her eyes widen and her mouth open, but it was too late. Suddenly he felt a blunt throbbing in his left side. Turning, his eyes fell on a hooded man who had come out of nowhere. Stupefied by the abruptness of the attack at a moment he had been wholeheartedly distracted, Tony took another heartbeat to draw his gun. By that time the man had lunged forward again and Tony merely felt a piercing shot of pain in his shoulder before tumbling over. He expected the man to fall on top of him, his hands shooting up to defend himself and shove the perp off of him. But nothing came.

He looked up in time to see Ziva take a hard blow to her unprotected thigh, briefly buckling over just to ram her full weight into her next punch as she came back up. By now the man was hooded no more and Tony easily identified him as the former Marine Gunny they had been searching for all day. Tony quickly threw himself to the side and grabbed his gun. Ignoring the pain in his right shoulder he jumped up and flung himself between the struggling pair, his gun drawn.

"Cool it, Hutchins!", Tony yelled. The man's eyes instantly locked on the barrel of Tony's Glock.

"NCIS", Ziva panted, reaching for her badge.

"We just have a few questions", Tony clarified, still half-yelling at the man who was bleeding from a cut above his eye.

Hutchins nodded, tension leaving his poise. Tony quickly stepped up and handcuffed him, pushing him down on a nearby crate. Then he turned around, looking at Ziva with concern etched all over his face. Her clothes and hair were disheveled, she was out of breath and rubbing her left forearm where she had probably fended off Hutchins' kicks more than once.

Ziva acknowledged his scrutinizing stare with a small nod. "I am fine." Then her eyes fell on the concrete beneath their feet and the knife lying a few inches from Tony's boot. Fresh crimson blood glistened on its blade. Ziva, certain of it not being her own, instantly looked back up, scanning Tony's body. "Tony…"

Her voice was laced with alarm as she stepped closer, pointing at his shoulder. He was wearing a grey coat over his blue suit and a small stain of blood had already gathered on his right shoulder. Tony quickly followed her eyes and threw his coat to the side with his left hand, revealing a nastily big bloodstain on his jacket.

"I'm calling Gibbs", Ziva announced. Tony was about to object, but she had already speed-dialed their boss' number.

Despite Tony whining about the four-digit sum he had paid for his new coat, Ziva had fiercely and successfully forced him to use his rumpled left sleeve as a makeshift compress. A few minutes later Gibbs and McGee arrived. Gibbs quickly assessed the situation before ordering Ziva to take Tony to the hospital and to return to the office afterwards in order to write up their reports. Eventually, the other two agents escorted Hutchins back to NCIS, while Ziva found herself in the car again, this time behind the wheel, and driving somewhat more carefully than she usually would.

Halfway at the nearest hospital, Tony suddenly turned towards her. "Zee", he said softly, briefly accommodating her glance with a small smile, "No hospital."

"Tony-"

"Please. Hospitals freak me out", he admitted, not caring at all that it made him sound like a small child. The pain in his shoulder was quickly shooting past the adrenalin in his body and causing him to blink rapidly. "Don't make me."

Once again Ziva's eyes drifted into his direction. She could see the sincerity glistening in his eyes. She could understand him: first his mother, then the plague, then numerous colleagues. Yet, she couldn't just defy the deep concern spreading in the pit of her stomach. "Tony, you have lost a lot of blood. You need medical attention", she reasoned, unconsciously slowing down.

Only half as radiant as usual, but still a DiNozzo-grin erupted on his face. "I need attention, sure."

"It is-"

"It's not that deep", he countered, leaning his head against the backrest of his chair, his eyes pleading with her.

Her gaze locked on the road stretching before them. She usually wasn't this indulgent, why always with Tony? Expelling a frustrated growl, she took a few turns before sliding into a small parking lot. Without further ado she got out of the car. For a moment Tony was left wondering what exactly she was doing until Ziva yanked the door on his side open. Kneeling onto the footboard with one leg, she wordlessly helped him out of his coat and jacket, quickly folding both items and storing them away on the backseat.

The moment her eyes fell onto the marked bloodstain covering his shoulder, her expression briefly slipped. She hastily readjusted to blankness, but it was too late: Tony had noticed it. "Is that fear in your eyes, Agent David?", he inquired softly, the edges of his mouth slightly turning upward.

Tending to the buttons of his shirt, Ziva bestowed him with the most unreadable of gazes before concentrating back on the task at hand. Careful not to hurt him too much, she gently hooked his injured arm out of his shirt, and then used its sleeve to create a more effective temporary compress to still the bleeding.

Ziva was just about to get back up, when Tony grabbed her coat with his left arm. His eyes spoke appreciative volumes, but his mouth had different plans. "I'm sorry…about what I said."

Ziva started shaking her head. "Tony-"

"No, believe me. I'm truly sorry. You know I can be an idiot sometimes, but I'm working on it." He added one of his half-smiles to the sincerity in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Placing her hand over his for a second, Ziva nodded. "I know. So am I."

She left his sight, closing the door before Tony had the chance to pinpoint the true meaning of her words. But his doubts evaporated when she buckled herself back in, giving him a small smile before starting the engine and driving back to the Navy Yard.

The remainder of their trip was silent as Tony's eyes had soon slipped shut and Ziva had willed herself to concentrate on the traffic outside and not the man beside her. After parking the car among its government-issue equals, Ziva got out quickly to help, but Tony made struggling out of the car all by himself a point of testament to his hospital-aversion. Allowing herself a brief smile upon his antics, Ziva tucked his coat over his shoulders and steered him vehemently through a side entrance of the evidence garage. Taking a sharp right, she opened the door to a small storage room in the hallway down to autopsy and gently pushed him down on an old chair. Retrieving a small table lamp from some faraway corner of the room, she maxed out its cable and placed it on a shelf to Tony's left, immediately showering him in light.

Tony merely looked on in amazement, stunned by the fluidity of her movements. When she left, he wondered if the silence throughout their thirty-minute car ride could have been accredited to her meticulous planning.

Ziva returned a few moments later with an emergency kit in one hand - Tony recognized it as the one he knew Ducky kept in his office at all times - and a glass of water. Handing him the glass, she commanded quietly, "Drink."

Despite holding onto his somewhat playful smile, Tony couldn't deny he was feeling a little faint. He started out gulping it down until Ziva's cautioning motion prompted him to take smaller sips. In the meantime he watched her assess their situation and arrange various implements.

Given that she actually seemed to be looking for specific items, Tony couldn't help but wonder. "Combat medic training?", he inquired, flinching slightly as Ziva removed his shirt from around the incision.

Ziva slightly shook her head, inspecting the gash on his shoulder. "I was a volunteer with the _Magen David Adom_ when I was a teenager", she answered absently, briefly finding his confused frown. "Red Star of David", Ziva clarified. "Later Mossad taught me to be…_resourceful_ in tending to wounds."

"Ziva David, you're like Wonder Woman", he revered, fixing her with a look of awe.

An almost bashful smile flittered across Ziva's face and Tony realized how much it meant to him that he had evoked it. However, she allowed the moment to linger just a second longer. Slipping on a pair of latex gloves, she soaked a slip of gaze with disinfectant. She briefly lifted her eyes into his before starting to apply it to his shoulder, cleaning out his wound and the caked-on blood around it. The sting of it made him grip the edge of the chair, but he still couldn't tear his eyes away from her proficient fingers. The chair was quite high, so that he towered half a head over Ziva, watching her closely.

"This needs stitching", she observed, throwing the bloody cloth into one of the medium evidence bags she had been thoughtful enough to bring along.

"Never pegged you for a needlework kinda gal, but go ahead", Tony replied with a lopsided shrug. "Do what you have to do."

Ziva sighed quietly. "Are you sure you do not want a professional to-"

Tony slightly shook his head. "I trust you", he declared simply. "And I wouldn't trust anybody else with this."

Testing his determination one last time, she informed him, "It will have to be done without anesthetics." Tony's steadfast expression slipped for a moment, but he quickly regained himself and nodded his head. "Very well, but only if you let Ducky remove the stitches", she argued.

He took a moment, his intention of keeping this between the two of them sliding off the chair and running out the door. Eventually, he nodded. "Deal."

Having her final answer, Ziva prepared the suture kit. It had been quite a while since she had been required to do this kind of procedure, and the last time had been on herself. Now, she had every reason to believe that this time would prove to be much easier. However, the moment she drove the tip of the needle through his flesh, her head jerked into the direction of Tony's. She could see him flinch, she could hear his breath and suddenly she realized how hard it was to know she was inflicting physical pain on him. It seemed Tony sensed her reservations and put on a blank face almost instantly, encouraging her with a nod. All the while he maintained that expression, putting all the more effort into it whenever Ziva looked up to check on him.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but draw a small breath of relief when she turned to put away the suture implements a few minutes later. He examined her work. "Doesn't exactly remind me of my grandma Betty's quilts, but you gotta admit", Tony remarked, flashing her a big grin, "It kinda adds to the hotness."

Ziva chuckled, applying some antibiotic cream on a big gauze pad. "That is the flush of adrenalin, Tony", she retorted, giving him a full-fledged smile while she gently placed the pad on his shoulder and secured it on one side with some gauze tape.

"Does this whole service include aftercare as well?", he asked, his tone of voice slipping down to basso notes. "Showering's gonna be quite the stretch for the next couple of days." They were back to their dance, both knowing that what he alluded to could not be - not yet, not for a long time.

Ziva relegated her answer to a narrowing of her eyes, but the twitching edges of her mouth gave her away. She was just taping down another side of the pad, when his hand suddenly enclosed her fingers. Ziva stilled, taken aback by the unexpected gesture. She still felt far from allowing him to touch her at his own tender discretion and he usually understood that. Even though he could hardly imagine what had been done to her in that cell in Somalia, a part of him knew, instinctually so, that physical intimacy was nothing to be initiated lightly around her - not yet, not for a long time.

However, right now he hadn't taken the time to think. He could feel her muscles tense beneath his gentle grip, so he decided to just get it out there. "Thank you", he said, waiting for her eyes to meet his before adding, "Thank you for doing this."

He let go of her hand the moment those words had left his lips, nothing but his sincere smile remaining. Looking into his eyes, giving him the slightest of nods, Ziva could still feel the lack of his touch, the phantom feeling of him so close to her. Ripping off a third band of tape and repeating her motions around the pad on his shoulder for the third time, she could feel his eyes on her more imminently than before. She could always sense his eyes on her, but right now there was more. When she looked back up, he was closer than ever before, his mouth, smiling, so close to her face. She realized how perfect an opportunity this would have been, but he made no move. His eyes, however, were telling a different story.

Letting go of all her thoughts, Ziva leaned forward, capturing his lips with hers, her eyes staying open, watching his eyelids slip shut for the briefest second. Her lips encircled his. Heartbeat. Heartbeat. She drew back, the sensation staying with her for just a while longer.

This had felt much different than their greedy lip-banter for the sake of upholding undercover identities seven years ago.

His emerald eyes were speaking of pure wonderment. He would have never expected, never even _hoped_ their day could go this way. He knew he had to be patient. He knew pursuing any kind of intimate relationship with Ziva would challenge his feelings for her every day anew. They were like addictions, bad and good at the same time - and by the time they could work past the addictive phase they would have to stay, assuring each other every day that they would stay.

Were they inevitable? Hardly. In a different universe he might have already had two kids with Kate, but that's not how it works. They had made their choices. They were dysfunctional in how they functioned alongside each other, but that's what made them work somehow. And Somalia had given her, if all else failed, one thing: perspective. She had learned to appreciate her choices.

They locked gazes. Briefly, his eyes slipped down to her lips, lips he had longed to kiss for months. He had to admit that he had merely been curious in the beginning. Now, however, he felt more than curiosity upon the tingling of desire drenching his whole body. Drinking in the sizzling silence of the moment, he leaned in to close the breath-wide distance between them once more just to make sure. And Ziva flinched back.

"Tony please…", she whispered, her hand instantly shooting up to ward off his advance.

Her gaze dropped, but he tilted his head to find it again, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's okay."

Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows rose at the same time, rendering her look almost pleading. "It is not that I do not want-"

"I know." He raised his hand but halted mere inches from her face, waiting for her to pull back. When she didn't move, he traced the back of his finger from her jaw to her hairline. The moment her eyes wandered back up to meet his, he repeated more forcefully, "I know."

"It will take time for me to-", she started, feeling his touch against her cheek, seeing his eyes dangling in hers, "It won't be easy."

"I've never been one for easy", he remarked, feeling himself sigh inwardly upon her swift smile.

She nodded slightly and reached for his hand on the side of her face, squeezing it tightly before placing it on his thigh. Then she took the tape again and ripped off one last strip, securing the side of the gauze pad closest to his neck. All the while his eyes followed her movements. When she had finished, she gently traced the taped edges with her index finger.

She nodded, turning to catch his eyes with hers. "We are good", she declared.

He smiled.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Last chapter:<strong> Thank you for reading, following and reviewing. **This chapter:** please do leave a review. **Next chapter:** Mystery._


	15. Blow that Whistle

_Once again, I want to sincerely thank my reviewers: You make my day, and you keep me writing this story even though I cannot update as regularly as I would like. And because you are in the vast majority: Also a sincere thank you to you, my non-reviewing readers and alert-ers - I hope to keep you entertained and interested!_

_Next chapter: family time, intrigue, and worries._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 15 Blow that Whistle<strong>

**Thursday, March 25****th**** 2021**

Ziva dried the inside of the pan before returning it to its designated place on the shelf. Then she neatly folded the rag in two and slipped it over the rail running along the ledge of the kitchen counter. Retrieving a spatula from the nearest drawer, she started piling up small and evenly distributed pancake towers on three separate plates. One of those plates was framed by a noble congregation of Disney's princesses. Tony and she had probably bought that plate sometime during her second pregnancy about six years ago. The images were faded and barely intelligible to anyone who had never seen them in full grandeur. But Tali wouldn't give her plate up for the world - especially not when there were pancake towers to devour. Smiling, Ziva's first instinct led her hand to the buck knife strapped to her belt, but she eventually reached into the other drawer and pulled out an everyday steak knife to cut Tali's pancakes up into smaller triangles.

Before long the little girl was standing in the door to the kitchen too. Ziva looked up to find the five-year-old still clad in her pajamas, the whiteness of gauze around her right wrist sticking out from the redness of its sleeve. Ziva had woken up particularly early today and run an extra turn in her usual route, yet had still made it home earlier than most days. Pancakes were the universal treat for the additional time on her hands while Tony was on kids-duty. And Tali had obviously evaded his prepping grasp thus far.

"Boker tov, tateleh", Ziva greeted with a smile.

"Mornin'", Tali mumbled absently in return, taking a few steps into the room. Instead of claiming her morning hug, the little girl cocked her head to the side and slightly squinted her eyes.

Ziva watched her daughter in amusement. The little girl was looking just too much like Tony when she put on her 'thinking face'."Is there something on your mind?"

"Can I come to work with you and daddy t'day?", Tali asked eventually, her poise not slipping.

Ziva arched an eyebrow. "You have school today."

"But daddy says I'm wun- wounded", the little girl exclaimed, throwing her injured hand up for emphasis in case her mother might have forgotten about that little happenstance.

Ziva chuckled lightly, crouching down to Tali's level. "We will make sure Ms. Rachel knows all about your injury, but you are perfectly fine to go to school today", Ziva affirmed, her voice not wavering.

Tali mulled this over in her head for a while. "Can we t'least paint it like we did yours?", she inquired no less determinedly, shooting the white cloth on her wrist a dirty look.

"I had a cast on my arm, tateleh. Do you remember how thick and stiff it was?", Ziva explained, tucking some fallen curls behind Tali's ear.

The five-year-old gave her mother a probing look before turning her attention to her injured wrist and slowly stroking her fingers across the fabric. Instantly, her formerly eager expression fell. Sighing dramatically - and thus driving another smile onto Ziva's face for all her Tony-mimicking cuteness - Tali shook her head. "So being hurt's no fun at all?", she lamented.

"It usually is not", Ziva declared in a half-laugh, fixing her daughter with a sympathetic smile. "Does it hurt?" Tali shook her head again. "Then we will take it off soon anyway."

"There you are!", Tony called out as he emerged from the living room and found his daughter in all her mid-morning glory of drowsiness. "Thought you'd already chased Alice down the rabbit hole before seven in the morning." He leaned down and across his daughter to capture Ziva's lips for a kiss, tugging her back upright with him.

"Who's Alice?", Tali asked, screwing her face up in confusion.

"At least now you know what to get for our movie night", Ziva remarked, winking at Tony.

Tony chuckled knowingly and bent down to scoop his daughter up into his arms. Instantly, Tali made use of her new position of prominence, clasping her father's face with both of her hands. "Being wounded is no fun, daddy", she sighed.

"Sometimes you're so weird, Tali", David commented dryly, joining his family in the kitchen, fully dressed and ready for the day. Shaking his head as he passed his dad and sister earned him the defiant presentation of Tali's tongue.

"Good morning", Ziva interceded quickly, kissing the top of her son's head as she handed him his plate.

"Todah", he answered with a smile.

"I got an idea", Tony perked up, hoisting Tali higher in his arms. "How 'bout we sticker-pimp that ruggedly rug?" Ziva laughed as the five-year-old looked on with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Tony winked at her. "I'll show you, princes."

And with that father and daughter left on their morning quest for the best pimping sticker.

* * *

><p>The nonchalance of family bliss had faded into the distance of two hours by the time they were gathered in the middle of the bullpen. Ziva was leaning against her desk. She had recently abandoned her chair in a bout of frustration. McGee and Tony, however, were still sitting in theirs, forming the remnants of a campfire-circle and staring up at her in bewilderment.<p>

"So, walk me through this again", Tony said, his forehead creasing with wrinkles.

Ziva sighed, folding her arms in front of her chest. This would mark the third time of telling them and she had never had the patience for repetition. "As far as I know, it is…or it _was_ a common practice to use the identity of recently deceased with no apparent next of kin and to set up safe houses, rented in their name", she relayed, trying hard to level her tone of voice.

"Mossad?"

"Many agencies", Ziva countered quickly. "But yes, also Mossad… Every name would then be connected to a container, some kind of a stationary hub for safe-keeping of arms, of resources, money, documents."

"_Lord of War_", Tony cut in with a smile. "2005 margin classic, Nicolas Cage as the Ukrainian gunrunner with a cynic's attitude. I'm guessing, though, we won't be getting to the _Hallelujah_-moment."

Ziva chose to let his comment go uncommented. "If necessary one can use the container as a stop-over, take on an alternative cover or contact the recovery team", she continued, remembering more than one occasion such a sanctuary had saved her life during an ill-advised op. "You would never have the key to the container on you in case you were caught. Its content was to be protected by all means."

Silence spread in the bullpen, only interspersed by the beeping of other-cubicle-originating machines, of typing and phones ringing. Tony slowly started nodding his head. "But we're talking Mossad here."

"Yes."

"You've never taken a course in Terrorist Group 101?", Tony inquired, trying to keep his tone light in spite of what he was thinking. He knew it wouldn't work on her, but he couldn't help himself.

"What are you getting at, Tony?", Ziva countered irritably.

"If we're talking Mossad operating techniques, then we're talking Mossad", McGee explained evenly.

"Means that Mossad is playing a part in this."

"My father would not-"

"Far be it for me to actually defend him", Tony mused, his eyebrows rising, "But he might, if he doesn't know about it."

Tony was well aware of how big of a blow Eli's involvement would have been for Ziva. Over the past three years he had watched father and daughter inch closer and they still were at a distance so far removed from each other that Tony had given up all illusions they could ever get to a place that seemed to come naturally - really, to her relationship with Gibbs. But Eli was part of Ziva's past more than he was of her present, and Tony knew how much she still needed to come to terms with that past.

"How would he not?", Ziva argued, quickly breaking her arms' entanglement and bracing her hands against her desk. "This is Eli we are talking about."

She didn't know where the sudden urge to safeguard her father's actions was coming from. Then again, maybe she just didn't want to believe that he would be jeopardizing the recently reactivated relationship they had been working on. And what about the kids? Eli wasn't stupid; by now he must have realized that Ziva would break off any contact with him, if he ever pulled a stunt like that again.

"Zee, he told us himself, remember?", Tony conceded, getting up. "He's being shoved to the background. Sounds to me like there might be a new puppet master."

McGee looked up at them and quietly turned in his chair, rolling himself back behind his desk and starting to work on possible new leads. This was their decision to make.

Ziva stared at Tony, their eyes entangled in silent conversation. She could see his mind race, putting together pieces of their case, trying to make sense of what they had rounded up thus far. And likewise, he could see her brace herself for what seemed to loom dangerously close over their heads.

"Are you telling me to trust him?", Ziva inquired quietly.

A small smile dripped from Tony's lips. He took a step towards her. "No, I'm telling you to give him a chance. Give _yourself_ a chance."

Trust had never come easy to Ziva, Tony knew that for a fact. Ziva had been raised to mistrust anybody but her own skills and abilities, and to mistrust anybody but her family just to get screwed over by the ones closest to her. It had torn them apart before. It would never tear them apart again - Tony had promised that to the both of them, first in that cell in Somalia and then again and again. For her own sake he needed to appeal to the part of her that had learned to trust over the years. However, one thing he was sure of: If Eli had done anything to breach that thin layer of trust Ziva had allowed herself to build with him, Tony would personally make sure the old man would regret it.

"What do you suggest I do? Ask him?" Ziva's eyebrows furrowed.

Tony shrugged. "Call him."

"Is it really that easy?"

"You do what you always do when it comes to him", Tony said. "You try."

* * *

><p>Ziva had retreated to one of the upstairs annex-rooms soon afterwards. Those were smaller than the conference room and each served a different provisional purpose such as temporary storage for files or alternative stopover for interviewees. After years of sleeping on its floors, Vance had eventually even conceded to furnishing one room with a small couch a few years back. She was reviewing files, logs and notes from Johnston's records, but her mind was wandering. Her cell phone rested next to her on the table, its grey-black surface looming in her peripheral vision with decisions yet to make. She knew she had to call her father. She had opted for the privacy of this room for exactly that reason, but she couldn't get herself to dial the number.<p>

For some time she had occupied her mind with trying to figure out what number to call, if anything. His office? His apartment in Tel Aviv? Was he, maybe, still in Haifa? Was he, maybe, on shutdown? Eventually, she had decided to call an old friend at the embassy, who had served as the liaison with Mossad for the longest time. Eli trusted her, and so did Ziva. She would know how to reach him.

Right now, however, Ziva wasn't sure what she was thinking anymore and why she was hesitating. Again and again visions of Eli invaded her mind, how different he could be around Tali and David and then, how strangely unchanged with regard to her rougher memories of him.

Talking to Eli didn't come easy to her. They had never upheld any kind of routine, not at any point in her life. Growing up, Eli had been away on assignments or at work more often than Ziva cared to remember. Back then it had been her job and Ari's to take care of each other, of their little sister, of themselves. There had been no daddy-goodnight-routines, no kisses, no welcoming rituals. Eli himself had determined when and if he was a presence in their lives - forcing Ziva to wait, and at some point forcing her to force herself to stop caring.

That lack of trying to be a part of his life wasn't a habit to shake easily. Three years ago Ziva had made it very clear to Eli that if he wanted to be a part of their life and if he wanted her to care, he needed to reciprocate. It was an entirely new quality to their relationship. Something that afforded work. Things did not just happen.

They didn't have a calling routine. They talked regularly, mostly to accommodate his wish to be a bigger part of the kids' lives. Altogether, that was more than could have been said for the years prior to the Niv-Peled-calamity. But Eli was a busy man and Ziva had built a whole life without him there. They were still getting the hang of including each other into the midst of their everyday activities. Especially around the time of bigger cases or busier times with the kids - as opposed to the usual craze - Ziva forgot to meet her own biweekly rule.

More than that, however, Haifa had been a momentous step in their relationship and regarding Eli's role in their lives. There was a lot still left to process and integrate into a continuous flow of mind and emotion.

Ziva reached for her cell, abandoning the futile task of trying to make sense of the papers in front of her. She cradled the device in her hand, tapping its surface.

* * *

><p>"What about phone numbers?", Tony suggested, leaning back in his chair.<p>

McGee looked up from his computer. Abby and he had hit a dead end trying to come up with more unconventional ways to interrogate Johnston's data. Frustrated with the slow development of the case, McGee had eventually asked Tony for ideas in hopes that the senior agent's more hands-on approach would pay off. Not too happy about the way their case was going either, Tony had gladly embraced that.

"Phone numbers are not really part of what Johnston recorded", McGee explained. "His advance was entirely computer-based."

"We do agree, though, that phones are still an important part of our lives, yes?", Tony challenged, slipping forward so as to lean on his desk.

"Yes, but-"

"Humor me, McProbie-Once."

"Play nice, boys", Ziva quipped sans smile, passing their desks.

"Found anything?", McGee inquired quickly.

"Nothing of value."

Ziva had stopped and turned only briefly to address her partner-in-field before continuing on her way through the bullpen. She dropped her cell on her desk and left, Tony's eyes following her. Watching her take a right towards the lunch area, he quickly got up and went after her. A few moments later he found her standing in front of the vending machines, staring at them blankly.

He approached her, tugging a few dollar notes out of his pocket and stepping around her. "Purple?", he asked without waiting for her answer. He bent down to retrieve the granola bar and handed it to her with a smile.

Ziva returned his uncanny gesture with a grateful smile and a nod, turning to lean against the machine. She ripped off the foil and took a bite. "The transcripts McGee and Abby gave me seem to become less and less genuine."

"Was to be expected", he acknowledged, mimicking her position and stare out of the bay windows. "I got an update on Johnston. He's great. Psychobabbling the crap out of his entourage."

A small smile flittered across Ziva's face. "That is good."

Tony nodded. "Doctors said he's doing fine...under the circumstances."

Ziva took another bite. "He should not be paying for what he did."

Tony added nothing to her assertion but a nod. They remained that way until Ziva had finished her midday snack. Tony accepted her crumbled-up wrapper with a smile and threw it into the trashcan beside him. Other than that they remained silent, simply standing next to each other, their hands barely grazing. That was until Tony's phone rang them out of their twosome-ness and Abby sweet-ordered them down to the lab. When the two of them arrived in _Labby-Land_, they found McGee and the forensic specialist at the computers, both of them smiling. Without another word Abby directed them towards the plasma screen, where they had pulled up some kind of chat conversation. Tony's and Ziva's eyes scanned the words onscreen, quickly putting on matching scowls.

"This is gibberish", Ziva stated eventually.

"Yes, it is", McGee affirmed. Tony merely turned around to frown at the pair.

"It's code", Abby elaborated. "And without a decryption key, we have no way of finding out what they are talking about."

"And we thought translating the Hebrew stuff was hard", he deplored, earning himself Ziva's frown as well.

"So, you got us down here to do the humble brag?"

"No, we actually have something", Abby beamed.

"Then I actually have something." Tony produced a cup of _CafPow_, but put it on the other side of Abby's desk and out of her reach, sporting a pointed look.

Drawing her lips into a thin line, Abby started typing into her keyboard and color-schemed the conversation transcript they were currently looking at. Some bits of dialogue were now shaded a bright red, others blue.

"Arik logged onto a fairly frequented chatroom one day. He is blue. _Red_ is the person he chatted with", Abby started, looping her head around her computer to look at the other two. "They quickly got their own room and from then on we have gibberish."

"But we can't read the gibberish."

McGee shook his head. "It's not about the gibberish, Tony."

"It's about the gibber..er", Abby elaborated, her forehead wrinkling with the slightest scowl upon her own words.

"The person he chatted with logged on via their phone", McGee continued pointedly. "It was a burn phone, so that doesn't help either."

"But, as you know, since last year Uncle Sam keeps a three-year record of GPS-data transmitted _to_ and emitted _by_ electronic devices all over the U.S."

"They are indexed by sequential hash numbers based on the IP-address used to access the web."

Ziva and Tony tried to keep up with the spitfire of information they were getting. "And?"

"And the IP-address we could trace", Abby asserted with evident pride.

Tony was just about to open his mouth in protest, but McGee stopped him. "Don't worry, we got a warrant and everything to access the server the chatroom is running on."

"Terror alert has its data-mingling perks, though", Abby added.

Zooming out of the transcript, McGee conjured up a map on the plasma. "Recreating the hash table, we could pinpoint the exact location of the person Arik was chatting with. Which was Washington Metro area."

Tony's eyes fixated the blinking dot that was Washington and the U.S.-borders surrounding it. "So, at least one of them was in the States before?"

"Probably scouting", Ziva declared, giving him a knowing look.

Tony nodded. "Me thinks we're dealing with more than a merry threesome here."

"We're not finished", Abby continued.

"No?"

"No", McGee gloated. "Abby also called in a favor at the L.A. office."

Ziva smiled. "Beale?"

Abby nodded. "We just got the feed of a security camera at a construction site nearby when we called you."

McGee quickly opened the video file. It showed a small-scale panorama of the location under investigation and a person on a bench, obviously tapping around on some kind of device. The surrounding buildings were medium height, stretching on both sides of the street. The edges of a small park could be identified in the far right corner of the image. There was a group of people strolling through the right side of the screen, taking a tour of sorts.

Ziva stepped up to the screen, squinting her eyes to focus on the person occupying the bench. "She looks female."

McGee mimicked her move and concentrated on the much clearer image the computer screen in front of him was emitting. His face fell. "The angle's not good enough for running facial recognition."

Abby bit her lip. "There are no other videos in the area. Eric checked."

However, Ziva and Tony stepped closer to the plasma almost simultaneously. "Maybe there are no videos NCIS had access to-"

"But we got this guy", Tony finished Ziva's sentence and pointed at the screen. His fingertip almost came to rest on a man in the touring group who was holding a camera and filming into the direction of the ominous woman. "Does he get close enough to the camera for a facial?"

Abby quickly fast-forwarded the video and zoomed in on the best angle of the man as the group was passing by the construction site. That move rendered his face fairly visible. The forensic specialist smiled triumphantly. "Gotcha."

* * *

><p>An hour later Ziva was just hanging up the phone, having had the most futile conversation. Once again she could feel Tony's eyes on her, and once again she refused to look up. She was certain his gaze hadn't been provoked by the way she had dropped the receiver more violently than usual. It was the force of habit. Whenever Tony knew something was bothering her, he would take to staring down her mood, looking for indicators as to its causes or for prompts to initiate some kind of conversation.<p>

Right now Tony had a pretty good idea what was nagging at the back of Ziva's mind, but when she finally decided to look up he simply offered her a smile and concentrated back on the files in front of him. Ziva's brows furrowed despite herself. Somehow she had hoped he would strike up any lame excuse of a topic that would eventually guide him to what he really wanted to know. Just when she was about to say something, the incipient breath halfway down her throat, Abby and McGee emerged from the back elevator.

Hastening towards the bullpen, the pair came to stand in front of Tony's desk. "We just got a fix on the guy in the video comparing him to private pics on a social network site", Abby initiated, emphatically nudging McGee who was standing beside her.

The agent immediately held up the tablet computer in his hand and pulled up a portrait shot of the man they had identified in the construction site video an hour ago. He had dark hair and was dressed rather casually, holding a glass of murky liquid in one hand. "Dan Zinman. 25-year-old university student majoring in architecture", McGee elaborated, picking up on Tony's expectantly rising eyebrows. "He lives on campus. Already got you the address."

"And for what it's worth", Abby added, a playful smile bouncing on her lips, "He's into heavy metal and progressive rock, yet enjoys the classics. He quotes _Full Metal Jacket_ and Francis Bacon…and he's single and not looking for anything serious right now."

Tony merely rolled his eyes and readily followed Ziva's lead in gathering up his stuff. They were just about to exit the bullpen, when Ziva noticed the distinct aura of uneasiness exuded by McGee. Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, Ziva knitted her brows together and turned towards him. "If you worry about telling me something, McGee, you should stop looking worried", she huffed.

McGee cocked his head slightly to the side - a move they all knew spoke apologetic volumes. His mouth opened immediately, but Tony stopped him. "I asked Director Vance to assemble a list of dates he knew Eli was in the area and added those to the dates I knew Eli was here visiting us", Tony explained, stepping out from behind his desk. "I had Tim compare the lists to the day the chat between Arik and that woman took place."

For a moment Ziva just stared at Tony. Her right hand, hidden beneath the coat she had slung over her arms, gripped its seam more tightly. Then she looked back at McGee. "And?"

"Your father was attending an international security conference", McGee confirmed, a sympathetic note woven through his statement. "He was here."

Ziva's face slipped into disappointment for a millisecond before she successfully covered her reaction behind a mask of composure. Yet, Tony caught it. "Still coincidental…", she stated.

"Second coincidence in a row, though", Tony cautioned. "And that's not counting the fact our terrorists boarded ship at an Israeli port."

The other three watched as Ziva's eyebrows slid upwards in the slightest before she turned around and left, heading for the elevator. Tony shared a brief look of understanding with the other two and then hurried after her, catching the elevator only seconds before its doors closed in on them. Similarly, their car ride remained a rather silent one. Neither their mouths nor their eyes spoke. Tony could see the pensive look on Ziva's face, but he refrained from calling her out on it. Eli was entirely Ziva's decision to make. Even though Tony knew a lot about Ziva's history with her father - way more than anybody else -, there was still so much he didn't know that would figure in her decision. If she wanted Tony's opinion, she would ask for it.

On campus they moved through the hallways side by side, alternately flashing their badges to whoever asked for any kind of identification. Curiously, not many did. When they arrived at the room the Dean had pointed out to them, the man they had identified as Dan Zinman opened the door. He quickly scanned them over, his eyes staying on Ziva far longer than on Tony.

"And you are?", he asked casually, leaning against the doorframe and casting a smile into Ziva's direction.

"NCIS", Tony declared dryly, not particularly liking the fact Zinman was barely paying attention to his words or the badge he was shoving under his nose. "We have a few questions."

"NCIS?", Zinman repeated, finally tearing his eyes away from Ziva who appeared severely unimpressed. "Didn't you get your letters crossed?"

"Navy Investigation", Ziva cut in.

"Guys, I study buildings. Navy guys are a few blocks down there", Zinman laughed, pointing to his right.

Then his eyes landed back on Ziva. She had left her coat open and was wearing a low-cut shirt beneath her jacket. Her hair was loose and falling elaborately over her shoulder. If anything, she certainly didn't look like the average mother-of-two that some people's peculiar imagination was usually generalizing beyond reprieve.

"If _you_ are doing the investigation, though… I can be Navy too", he added, his eyes greedily roaming Ziva's appearance and a smile playing on his lips.

Ziva didn't even flinch, but Tony's patience was wearing thin on a day like this. Instinctively, he took a step to the side, bringing himself closer to Ziva and between his partner and the other man. "Zip it up, Casanova", he snapped. "Woman's married."

Zinman gave him a sly smile. "Divorce rate's up 3 per cent again."

Tony mimicked the younger man's smile for a brief moment. "Crimes of passion up 7 per cent", he retorted. "I win."

"On the 23rd of October last year around 10 o'clock in the morning you were on Governor's Boulevard in Washington. Is that correct?", Ziva inquired, stopping the two men's play-by-play.

"Could be. I don't know", he answered distractedly. "Why?"

"You were with a group of people. Taking a tour or something?", Tony furnished.

"A tour?"

"Maybe you have a calendar to…_jog_ your memory?", Ziva offered, her eyebrows rising impatiently.

"A calendar… Sure, just a sec." With that Zinman vanished into his room. Tony and Ziva watched him access the digital calendar on his laptop. A moment later he returned to the door. "Study trip for a lecture. Lotsa old building around there."

"You had a camera with you."

"And we'd like to have the footage", Tony declared, handing over the pertaining court order.

Before Zinman could as much as finish the first sentence, Ziva was shoving her PDA at him. "If you could send it to this address…"

"Much obliged." Tony grinned.

* * *

><p>"Just finished sifting through the footage", McGee called out to them as Tony and Ziva arrived back in the bullpen. "Quality's crystal."<p>

They quickly dropped their stuff behind their desks and took a stand in front of the plasma. McGee pulled up a screenshot of the woman sitting on a bench, the device in her hand now clearly discernible as a cell phone. He zoomed in on the woman's face and watched as Ziva's and Tony's eyes went wide almost in unison.

"You recognize her?", he asked in bewilderment.

Tony nodded. "Coincidence-wise this makes it a round three."

"That is Baila Eshel", Ziva explained slowly. "My father's assistant."

Almost instantly, Ziva turned on her heels and left the bullpen, only stopping her stride to retrieve her cellphone from her coat pocket. Tony and McGee followed her with their eyes, watching her take a sharp left and entering the ladies' room. Inside Ziva dragged her fingers across her phone's surface in search for the right number. When she found it she took a step back, leaning against the wall opposite the mirrors. Scrutinizing her own reflection, she couldn't help but shake her head at how pale she was looking. She took a deep breath and stabbed the number.

"Shalom, Ziva", a woman's voice greeted on the other end after just the first ring. "I expected your call."

Ziva could feel something fall inside of herself, but straightened up instantly. "Why?"

"Ziva…" The second syllable was almost drowned out by the crackling of a failing reception.

Ziva pressed the phone more tightly against her ear. "Hello?"

More rustling. "-va, I am afraid your father-"

A lone beep and the line went dead.


	16. Out of the Silver Lining

_Long time no read, guys - alas, life. But for compensation's sake: a long, long chapter filled with all kinds of goodness. I want to thank all my reviewers and all my readers - you have no idea how much I appreciate your (voiced) interest._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 16 Out of the Silver Lining<strong>

**Friday, March 26****th**** 2021**

"Aren't you worried?", Tony asked suddenly, jerking the elevator to a halt. The emergency lights bestowed Ziva's features with dark blue shadows, but other than that they remained unchanged.

Unchanged. That was the operating word right now. Yesterday afternoon Ziva had reappeared in the bullpen half an hour after vanishing in the ladies' room and making the call she had avoided all day. Unflappably, she had relayed newfound information to Tony and McGee before continuing with her work until the early evening had settled and she had left to pick up the kids.

When Tony had come home two hours later nothing about their evening had appeared morose or oddly out of place. David had been sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework while Ziva was hovering between dinner preparations and answering his occasional questions. Tali had set up an intricate game near the couch where Ziva had kept a knowing eye on her, and upon his arrival the little girl had quickly dragged her daddy into her world of wonder and make-believe.

Dinner entertainment had been provided by the kids telling them all about their day. Tali had claimed even more the conversational upper hand given that her class had recently started the costume fitting for their play, prompting Ziva to plan for a shopping trip in the near future. Afterwards, the kids' goodnight routine had swept away the remainder of the evening all but smoothly and soon Tony had found himself zapping through channels in the living room while Ziva had retreated to the study.

Despite her outward lack of reaction, the news of the day had reminded her of the unanswered messages in her inbox. With her Aunt Nettie's death two years ago Ziva had lost a strong bond, a constant that had been in her life ever since. Yes, Ziva had been deeply saddened to hear of her cousin Adena's and her husband Sol's death in 2017. They had died in the line of their duty for Mossad. Ziva had started her career within the Israeli agency alongside both of them, and their death had served as a painful reminder of all that could have been had she not had the chance of opting out. Yet, Nettie's death had positively broken Ziva's heart and, being Eliana's sister, Nettie had been Ziva's last connection to her late mother. For the first time Tony had seen her grieve, deeply, for her loss. She had buried herself in books and pictures and memories and had looked up only to put on a brave face for the kids.

If any good had come of Nettie's death, however, it was that Ziva had rekindled the relationship with her estranged cousin Iyov - Nettie's son, Adena's brother - and they had been writing each other pretty regularly ever since. Ziva had never been particularly close to her father's side of the family. She had seen her Uncle Ephraim maybe eight, nine times all her life, even though her love for horses and him breeding them could have substantiated a long-lasting relationship. Really, Iyov was the only family besides Eli that Ziva had left. He was also one of the few who had been smart enough not to buy into the family's Mossad business, keeping himself, his wife and kids far away from that most precarious branch of living.

Eventually, Tony had gone to sleep. Ziva had still been deeply immersed in the strange art of writing up her e-mails in Hebrew, when he had slipped into the room for a kiss goodnight. He had no idea when Ziva had finally joined him, but their morning routine had not been any different either. Their current case was fast becoming an excruciatingly slow one, allowing them to drop the kids off together and actually come into work together - but other than that, nothing off. And Tony didn't know why it bothered him, but it bothered him.

"About what?", Ziva returned nonchalantly, matching his stare.

Tony's eyebrows rose. "Your father, Ziva?"

Ziva scoffed. "Growing up with a father who could go AWOL for weeks on end, you start separating that part of your mind that worries from the rest of it."

Tony seized her up, trying to look behind the serene auburn in her eyes. "But don't you-"

"I know he is not dead, Tony", she insisted.

"How?"

"I just know", she reiterated, stepping over to flick the elevator back to life. "He cannot be dead."

Tony didn't know if he could file his partner's current state of mind and attitude under flat-out denial, oft-trained self-protection or well-knowing instinct. He couldn't force her feelings, that he knew for sure. And he also knew from years of experience that Ziva's first emotional turn usually led into a roadblock of self-imposed composure. Leaving it at that for the moment, he went upstairs for his meeting with Director Vance. When he shoved the door to his office open, Vance was already waiting for him at the big mahogany table.

"You're early", Vance noted, flipping the file in front of him shut.

"Not much else to do right now, Director", Tony retorted, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. He hooked his finger into the buttonhole of his jacket and opened it so as to sit more comfortably.

"Still, I don't want you groping around in international affairs just yet", Vance declared somberly, his eyebrows rising along as he leaned back in his chair. "There's a terrorist cell on the loose in our own backyard. No need to go calling out our neighbors on the weed in theirs."

"You have no idea how much I'd love to keep this domestic, but there's sadly little to go on", Tony countered, folding his hands on the table.

A crooked smile slipped from Vance's face. "I'm not surprised." The older man got up and went to his desk, leaning up against it.

Tony followed him with his eyes, his forehead creasing in curious wrinkles. "You think there's more to it", he mused.

"Don't you?"

"Mossad, terrorists and us. Usually not the safest triangle to play."

"All the more reason to keep this down to a string quartet for now."

"You afraid to lose control?"

Vance arched an eyebrow. "I'm afraid we already have." Tony nodded artlessly; so, he wasn't the only one. "I've been trying to reach Eli on a covert private line", Vance added.

"Any luck?"

Vance slightly jerked his head to the side. "What did Agent David find?"

"Ziva's contact at the embassy had no idea about Eli", Tony explained, recalling Ziva's words from yesterday afternoon. "But they called in some favors in Mossad. As it turns out, Eli went off grid after his car was torn apart by an explosion on Monday, March 15th."

Vance nodded vaguely. "What makes them think it's the _M_, and not the _K_ in action?"

Tony sighed inwardly, his expression remaining unchanged. "Explosion was so massive it burnt all potential victims beyond identification."

"So it's hope."

Tony scoffed slightly, standing up. "I don't think Mossad hopes", he retorted. "I don't even know if they _would_ hope that Eli survived… But I know someone who does."

Vance nodded again and went to sit behind his desk. "You read Cooper's files yet? Archive released them yesterday evening."

"Skimmed through it", Tony brushed him off, turning to leave.

"It's your only current lead."

"Waiting for it to sink in."

"Or _slap_ in", Vance quipped with a knowing smile. "Am I right?"

Tony dropped a brief grin before opening the door and leaving the office.

* * *

><p>Somewhere in a corner miniscule water drops were slipping through a crack in the pipes and joining together in a small puddle on the rough concrete floor. The room was damp and dark. The wood of a steep staircase on its one side looked emaciated, its grain creasing in gruff bulges along the support beams. The brick-lined walls were covered in smears of black and dirt. There was but a small rectangular window lodged between the grid of pipes running across the ceiling and the far wall, substituting but for three brick rows. Close-knit bars were filtering the fleeting haze of sunbeams that trickled into the room.<p>

Arik watched the frail shimmer of light that hardly served any better than the battery-operated bulb in the corner of the room to bestow them with just enough light to conceal the room's appearance as the basement that it was. He watched wordlessly as Nuri immersed himself in building a small pyramid with silver gum wrappers atop the stock of his rifle. The tall, muscular man usually accumulated those wrappers in his pockets, losing them all over for Arik to recollect. Why he was using them for artwork now Arik didn't know and he didn't ask. He didn't ask Nuri anything if it could be avoided.

"And you think this will work the way you planned, Kadeer?", Arik asked offhandedly and without looking at the man he was addressing.

Kadeer, his dark hair brushed back in an unruly wave, raised his gaze to meet Arik's eyes over the rim of the dossier he was reading. "I could understand you doubting me for abandoning the only safehouse we had", he started quietly, "But I was right, no?" Arik gave a curt nod, concentrating back on Nuri and his gum wrapper pyramid. Kadeer sat up straight. "I was also right to assume that Ian Johnston would go to the only police he knew."

"Navy police", Nuri piped up, looking at Kadeer for approval.

"Yes", Kadeer nodded. "And I was right that we could learn about their involvement by leaving the house and observing it."

Arik's eyes narrowed. "You could never have known that Ziva would become a part of this."

Kadeer allowed a small smirk to drip from his lips. "I would have never allowed myself to hope she would."

"But you told me", Nuri cut in again, abandoning his project for the moment. "You suspected."

"I suspect all", Kadeer retorted in grim sincerity.

"Our plan was to meet with Baila and she never showed", Arik argued, finally turning his full attention to the man who was five years his senior.

"Where there are bombs involved, my friend", Kadeer declared slowly, "There are casualties."

Nuri pointed at Arik as if signaling that he was siding with the man. "Still no confirmation on David."

"He is not our main target!", Kadeer growled, anger blaring in his eyes. "I will not stray off the plan."

"But we already did."

"We are being flexible. And keeping ahead."

Composure had returned to Kadeer's voice and a pointed smile was tugging at his lips again. Almost simultaneously, all three pairs of eyes fell onto the tablet computer resting on the table between them - and the innately blinking dot on the map that filled its screen.

* * *

><p>Later that day McGee had left to pick up Liora and bring her back to NCIS. The little girl, her blonde hair waving in the air, skipped ahead when they arrived in the squadroom an hour later, rushing into the bullpen and straight into Ziva's legs, who had just filed away the reports on several old cases. The two-and-a-half-year-old beamed up at her, clutching a yellowish red backpack in one hand. Ziva bent down and scooped her up into her arms.<p>

"Shalom, little one", Ziva greeted with a smile.

"I'm wis you and Unca Tony t'day", she told her proudly. Ziva couldn't help but have her smile intensified by the softness of Liora's _T'_s that she somehow found most adorable in Tony's name.

"I know", Ziva whispered with an air of exaggerated mystery. "Tali and David have already made _lots and lots_ of plans for things to do with you."

"Daddy put all my things in here", Liora informed her, presenting her backpack as if it held all the treasures that she possessed.

"Did he now?" Liora nodded emphatically.

"And it took him only twice as long after someone had unpacked most of it again to fit in her book", McGee chimes in as he came to stand next to them, shooting his daughter a pointed look.

The little girl smiled meekly at him and then turned her attention back to Ziva. "Zee?", she whispered.

"Yes, Liora?", Ziva lowered her voice as well, leaning in.

"Cans we read my book for bed?", the little girl asked in a small voice.

Liora had never spent the night at their apartment before, at least not in the formal way. There had been times when they had babysat for Abby and McGee and Liora had simply fallen asleep at one point or another, exhausted from her elder cousins' almost endless streak of games. There had been times when their weekend get-togethers had run particularly long, but then Abby or McGee had tucked her in and followed through with their goodnight routine. In Liora's early months there had even been times when Abby and McGee had delivered her in a sleeping state and picked her up still sleeping - that holistic affinity to sleep had eventually turned 360° into the other direction.

"Of course we will read your book", Ziva assured her.

"And not just that! You'll also eat the best food you've ever tasted, because _I'm_ cooking. And you'll join exclusively in the DiNozzo Movie Night extravaganza with a special screening of _Alice in Wonderland_", Tony perked up with evident enthusiasm, coming down the stairs and positioning himself behind Ziva. "By the end of the day, you'll never wanna go back home."

Liora looked at her Uncle quizzically over Ziva's shoulder. She hadn't understood all that he had said, except for the last part. "I like my home."

"Don't worry, sweetheart, your mom and I won't let you get away that easily", McGee smiled at her, tucking his daughter's loose hair behind her ear. "Your Uncle is just being silly."

Reassured of a permanent home, Liora grinned and pointed her little hand at Tony. "Silly Unca Tony."

McGee smiled proudly at his daughter. "Looks like she's got you figured out, Tony."

"What can I say?", Tony shrugged. "Kids just get me." He reached around Ziva and started a mock-swordfight between Liora's index finger and his pinky, sending the little girl into a hail of giggles.

"They sure do", Ziva commented, smiling swiftly at her partner and receiving Tony's probing look.

Eventually, McGee broke up their little play-by-play, plucking Liora right out of Ziva's arms. "Come on, baby girl. Let's go hang out with your mom for a while."

Instantly, Liora's face lightened up. It wasn't often that she got to visit her parents at NCIS during the day. Turning somber for a brief moment, however, she slipped her arm across her father's shoulder and handed Ziva her backpack. "Keep it f'me, pwease?", she asked.

"We'll guard it with our lives", Tony remarked, slinging an arm around Ziva's shoulder. "At least your Auntie will, I only have my pinky." Tony saluted and waved his little finger expressively at the little girl.

Liora giggled, shaking her head. "Silly Tony."

Tony and Ziva watched as McGee vanished with his daughter behind the orange partitions, but it took Tony a while to realize Ziva was actually staring at him from the side, a knowing smile on her face. "What?"

There was a time when Tony DiNozzo's greatest fear was that of children. It hadn't been too much of a secret anyway, but Ziva, having seen him struggle with the concept of himself as a father, knew better than anyone else. She had always kept a close eye on him whenever they had dealt with kids in the course of an investigation. Her own history and distant yearning had rendered her more attentive around those times, and Tony had oftentimes struggled for an approach with those children, who were caught up in the mayhem of drama and tragedy at such a young age. Then, of course, when they had started their relationship children had somehow emerged as a possible future. And even though Tony had made it clear that he wanted them with her, his fear had persisted. It had persisted because, in the end, it was the fear of being inadequate, of being not good enough of a father, a fear of failing. And his fear persisted to this day. Just that Ziva now had years of evidence to assure him that, without a doubt, he was a great father.

"I love you", Ziva declared simply, leaning up to catch his lips in one of those small kisses they sometimes allowed themselves when the bullpen was empty except for them.

When she pulled away, they were both smiling. The questioning look in Tony's eyes hadn't faded, but Ziva returned to her desk nonetheless. Sometimes questions could linger, and Tony took a small gesture of stolen intimacy in the middle of the squadroom any day for it.

* * *

><p>Tony was sitting behind his computer in the bullpen, doing some well-intended jewelry research far off Ziva's watchful eyes. Sure, they had a no-gift policy for the 23rd - that being said for all material goods, of course - but from time to time either of them would gladly break it. And this year, ten years into an official relationship, Tony had every intention of presenting Ziva with a gift, and the perfect gift at that. When it came to jewelry Ziva was pretty simplistic. She always wore her watch, her earrings, the <em>Magen David<em> pendant. There was no room for more on a job like theirs. She also had some fancier pieces, a few heirlooms and the odd gift, but she rarely got them out. But he liked that, he liked how they were so dear and special to her - and he wanted to add to that with the perfect piece to stand in for their ten years. They hadn't been easy, far from that, but they were worth it.

The startling sound of his phone vibrating against the metal surface of his desk yanked Tony out of his reverie. In keen foresight he marked the sites he was looking at and switched on his screensaver, then turned to his cell. The number was blocked. "Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Ziva briefly looked up to verify what she was hearing and suddenly found Tony beckoning her over with his hand. Frowning, she stepped out from her desk and crouched down next to his chair. He put his phone on speaker and held it in front of them, lowering the volume so the conversation would stay between them and not encompass the entire squadroom. A man's voice was stumbling hastily through his sentences, their meaning barely discernible. When Ziva could finally pinpoint the source of the voice, her eyes narrowed.

"Leahy?", she mouthed. Tony nodded in affirmation.

"Agent DiNozzo? You still there?", Leahy inquired suddenly, stopping for the first time.

"Yes, yes I'm still here", Tony confirmed, sharing another look with his partner. "But you gotta slow down."

"I think I can't."

"Why's that?"

"I think I'm being threatened", Leahy pressed out. "Somebody wants me dead."

Tony watched as Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Who wants you dead?"

"I don't know. But somebody was in my house and went through my stuff", Leahy elaborated, his voice growing distant. "And I've been receiving weird phone calls."

"Prank calls?"

"It's more than that."

"So did you call the police?"

"Is that not what I'm doing right now?"

Tony's eyes met Ziva's and she nodded quickly. "Just stay where you are. We'll come over to your house and-"

"No", Leahy declined simply.

Tony's brows furrowed. "No?"

"I'm not there anymore."

Ziva and Tony looked at each other. "Where are you, Mr. Leahy?", Tony pressed on.

"I'll be at a safe place", Leahy answered cryptically. "But I have recordings of the calls and I made pictures of the disruption in my house."

Tony's eyebrows rose swiftly and a small smile flittered across Ziva's face. "That's very considerate", Tony stated vaguely. "Just come to the Navy Yard and we'll-"

"No way."

"Mr. Leahy, if you really are in danger, we can protect you."

"I'm safe for now", Leahy ascertained, sounding confidant. "Tomorrow, eight o'clock. Meet me at the company I worked for in 2001 and you'll get the records."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Leahy, this it not-"

"Please, Agent DiNozzo."

Leahy's voice sounded genuinely urgent and committed to his own plan. Tony looked down at Ziva and she shrugged, there was little else to suggest. "Okay, you got your meeting", Tony assented.

"Thanks."

With that Leahy hung up. Tony and Ziva spent a few more heartbeats staring at the phone before Ziva proceeded to get up and return to her desk. She accessed Leahy's files, trying to determine their ominous meeting point.

"This guy's seen way too many spy movies", Tony declared sardonically, shaking his head.

"If he really is being targeted, he did just the right thing", Ziva countered, not looking up from her search. "In a way, at least."

"He's an insurance clerk, Ziva", Tony half-laughed. "It's never about the insurance clerk."

"In 2001 Leahy worked for a small company outside Washington. The building was razed four years ago and turned into a parking lot", Ziva narrated. Then she turned from her screen to Tony, finding his gaze still disbelieving.

In the name of thoroughness and integrity they didn't have a choice, and Leahy had sounded positively shaken. Despite considering it over-the-top and futile, they would go there tomorrow no matter what. He smacked his lips. "I hate early Saturdays."

* * *

><p>A few hours later Ziva was sitting behind the steering wheel of Tony's prized Mustang, patiently waiting for the conundrum around them to die down, even though they were already running late for picking up David and Tali. After Tony and McGee had half-successfully collaborated on fitting Liora's booster seat into their car, Abby had yet to let go of her daughter. She had swept up the little girl in a crushing hug, going on and on about how it was only for one night and that they would have all the more fun tomorrow at the water park. By the looks of it, however, Abby was reassuring herself more than she was her daughter. As far as the grin on the two-year-old's face went, she probably thought of that whole scene as quite the funny set-up.<p>

"Come on, Abs, time to let go", McGee chimed in eventually, gently tugging at his wife's arm.

With one last sigh Abby finally let go of the little girl, pressing one last kiss against her forehead. "See you tomorrow, munchkin."

"Bye, Mama", Liora returned sweetly, patting Abby's cheek with her hand.

When Abby tore herself away enough to step aside, McGee leaned into the car with a big smile on his face. "Have fun, baby girl", he said, brushing a kiss against her cheek.

Liora giggled when he made a face. "Bye, daddy."

Eventually, Tony re-checked that his favorite niece was safely settled before taking his seat beside Ziva, and they took off into a three-kid-evening. Abby and McGee watched the car grow smaller beyond the Navy Yard gates alongside each other.

Abby sighed. "I'm missing her already."

"It's only one night, Abby", McGee reassured her, slinging his arm around her shoulder and resting his lips against her hair.

"Aren't you worried she's gonna forget us, though?", she exclaimed, her eyes actually matching the bewilderment in her voice.

McGee smiled, starting to steer her towards their car. "Actually, I'm more worried about all the things Tony might be teaching her…"

* * *

><p>About half an hour later the pair walked into a department entrance they knew all too well. A little over two years ago they had walked in and out of that building almost every day while they were making up their minds, preparing, putting the bureaucracy in place - and above all, falling in love with the child they were now calling their daughter. For the past two weeks they had been telling themselves that this was nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, nothing fit to disrupt anything about the life they had since built with Liora. Outside the door of the designated office, they turned towards each other, still, each offering the other a reassuring smile. McGee squeezed Abby's hand before turning the knob.<p>

Waiting for them inside they found a woman, Deb, who had assessed their qualifications as future parents and had eventually helped them get Liora. Sitting next to her was a man, apparently in his mid- to late twenties. Abby couldn't help but notice the man's blonde hair, sticking out stubbornly at medium length, as it perfectly matched Liora's color. Equally, McGee's NCIS-trained eyes instantly leapt into the other man's, contending himself with the fact Liora's eyes - for what it's worth - weren't her biological father's.

The moment they stepped into the room the man got up from his seat and extended his hand. "Nolan Walker", he greeted, his voice divulging the same nervousness as the residue of sweat on his palms.

Relegating their answers mostly to nods and a shared, yet mumbled surname, they took their seats. Deb didn't allow for much of the thick silence to settle, before putting on a prominent smile. "I am very glad you could make it tonight", she offered sweetly, slightly tapping the pen in her hand.

"Yeah, yes- I- I really appreciate you taking the time to come here", Nolan added, slightly rubbing his hands dry against his dark blue slacks before folding them atop the table's aluminum surface. "This won't take long, really. I wouldn't wanna keep you away from…from-"

"Liora", McGee substituted, eyeing the younger man suspiciously.

"Yes", Nolan breathed, trying to evenly distribute eye-contact between the two people sitting opposite him. "Wouldn't wanna keep you too long."

McGee nodded quickly. "We actually got her Aunt and Uncle to look after her for the night."

Nolan smiled. "That's nice. Your sister, brother?"

"They are more than blood-related", Abby countered quickly, suddenly glad that her fingers were intertwined with McGee's and she could feel his comforting squeeze. He swiftly turned to look at her.

Deb's expression, on the other hand, briefly slipped and she started to open her mouth, but Nolan beat her to it. Holding onto his smile, he offered a genuine half-laugh. "No, I know", he remarked lightly. "God knows, if I'd had the freedom of choice, I probably wouldn't have chosen _my_ family."

"Mr. Walker", McGee started, his voice even and calm but causing a shift in their loose setting to something more significant. "Why are we here?"

Deb smiled briefly, telling Nolan with a quick look that she would start. "Mr. and Mrs. McGee- Tim, as I told you over the phone this is not going to be some kind of recall. Liora is your daughter, you are her parents. You adopted her and nothing is going to change that."

"I really wanna be clear about that", Nolan added sincerely. "I don't wanna do _anything_ to put you two out. You adopted her, you gave her a life, you gave her a family. You gave the little girl everything when she had nothing and I- I'm grateful for that, I really am."

A smile flittered across Abby's face, her eyes swiftly dropping to the floor. "I can't tell you how grateful we are to have her."

Nolan nodded, drawn in by the sincerity in Abby's tone. "The way things were back then, we- Maura-" His voice briefly gave way to emotion as he remembered the kind of woman his girlfriend had been before they had broken up, before she had run away, before she gone through pregnancy on her own and before she had died. Eventually, however, his soft smile returned. "I'm glad she has you."

"Still… The overall situation has changed", Deb cut in, urging the meeting forward. "Nolan is Liora's biological father, who proved to the agency that he didn't know about her existence until recently. Generally speaking, this gives him certain rights."

"Rights for what?", McGee inquired quickly.

"Maybe I can see her?", Nolan suggested softly, dragging McGee's and Abby's eyes back towards him and away from Deb. "I mean as a- a friend, visiting. Maybe with her Aunt and Uncle around, so it won't be too weird?"

Both Abby and McGee were momentarily taken aback by the suggestion. How could it not be weird to invite Liora's biological father to dinner for a fleeting meet-and-greet? And above all, they both had a hard time suspending the feeling of uneasiness, even of fear they couldn't deny. McGee, in particular, kept casting swift glances at the younger man, drinking in his every feature, analyzing every dimple and the swerve of his hairline. This was Liora's _real_ father, right? The man who had created her very existence and without whom they would not even be parents to their little girl right now. Was that inadequacy that mingled with Tim's mayhem of emotions?

"I- I don't know. I mean-", Abby started, her eyes instantly drifting towards her husband. They looked at each other and they both could easily tell that they were not okay, far from it. But he was Liora's father, no way around that. "Sure, we can arrange…something, sometime."

"No, sure. You- at your convenience, really", Nolan ascertained, detecting the uneasiness radiating off of the pair. "Whatever you think works best for you and- and Liora. I'd just really, really like to get a chance to, you know, take a real look at her. It's not like I want visiting rights or anything. It's just- I-"

"We get that, really", Abby stopped him, a small smile playing on her lips.

She was right, they did. McGee knew that, but he couldn't help it either: This whole thing was bugging him greatly. "So, you hired a private investigator to find her?", he asked suddenly, trying to get a little bit more background here. Maybe it was the NCIS Agent in him, maybe it was the residue of fifteen years working alongside Gibbs, or maybe it was just, quite simply, the father he was.

Nolan chuckled slightly at that. "Well, kinda. Listen, I wanna be straight with you. So, I came into that crapload of money, right? But it just didn't end there. There's all the stuff that comes with it, all the responsibility, all these roles you suddenly have to fill. I really had to get my act together not to lose it again. I didn't come up for air long enough to think about the kids I might have fathered."

"You didn't?"

"No", Nolan declared simply. "And then one day this guy knocks on my door, right? And he tells me I should start looking in Washington if I ever wanna meet my daughter. First I didn't believe him, but-"

"But that's when you got the PI."

"We figured I could at least look into it."

McGee and Abby shared a knowing glance. Nolan had no idea how that strangeness factor was probably much more, so much more. "You got the guy's name?", Abby asked tentatively.

Nolan shook his head. "No. Like I told you, the whole situation was kinda surreal." Another chuckle slipped past his lips, but the pair on the other side of the table didn't join in. In fact, they looked even more apprehensive than before. A frown crept onto his face. "But listen, I could get you the security footage of that day. You should be able to get a look at him somewhere on there."

McGee nodded, a quick smile sprinting across his features. "We would appreciate that. Just…send me the raw data, I can work my way through it."

"Sure." Nolan quickly got out his phone. They watched his fingers brush over its surface into all directions, before handing it to McGee who just as proficiently added his home e-mail address.

"Thank you", Abby added sincerely.

Nolan smiled, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. "No problem."

Silence started to linger then, four pairs of eyes jumping from one to the other, waiting for that intake of breath, a signal for more substantial conversation to take place. McGee's eyes wandered towards the window. It was already dark outside. He couldn't help but wonder what Liora was doing right now. Abby meanwhile dropped her head a little to hide the grin she felt coming on thinking about Tony teaching Liora to say_ 'Daddy McGee'_.

Deb took one last look at each of them. "So, I guess that's a-"

"Liora's two years old now", Nolan started, his eyes briefly slipping shut.

"Two years, four months", Abby corrected out of habit.

"Yeah... The point it, she- she'll remember. She's attached. I know that. And I'm sure you're great parents to her, but-" He hastened through his words, dropping syllables all over. He was obviously nervous, like he hadn't actually planned on saying what he was saying. Nonetheless, that couldn't stop Abby and McGee from getting the distinct feeling they wouldn't like where this was going.

"What are you getting at?"

Nolan took a deep breath. "I'm married, I live a good life. I have more money than I will ever be able to spend. I have a wife who cannot have children of her own- And I know that doesn't count for anything, for you that's…that's no reason. I just- I want you to know that Liora can have a good life with us if you- if you-"

"No", Abby exclaimed immediately, her fingers tightening the grip on McGee's hand.

"I know this is kinda out of the blue, but-"

"No", McGee ricocheted, already getting to his feet. He turned and retrieved both his and Abby's coat from the rack by the window.

"We'll be in touch." Abby made a point of directing her words at Deb, who merely nodded her head, feeling unable to reclaim the situation.

"Come on, Abs", McGee called over, holding the door open for her.

Nolan eventually scrambled to his feet as well, his expression seemingly crestfallen. "I'm sorry. Just stay and- I- I shouldn't have brought this up-"

"Goodbye", McGee said, closing the door behind them.

* * *

><p>In a bout of a more creative evening routine, Ziva had first finished Liora's bath time, the little girl now downstairs continuing the game with David and Tony, which the five of them had been playing before. After a bath and an exaggerated amount of plastic-bag-protection on her injured wrist Ziva was now sitting cross-legged on Tali's bed, the five-year-old mimicking her position with her back turned. She was carefully brushing through her daughter's damp mat of dark-brown curls while the little girl was occupying herself with make-believe arguments between a triangle of stuffed animals.<p>

"We need a little decision-making help", Tony interrupted, taking a stand in the doorway with Liora in his arms. The two-year-old was watching the exchange with obvious amusement, giggling at the face her Uncle Tony was making.

"I'll help!", Tali volunteered instantly, turning her head so abruptly Ziva suddenly brushed into thin air.

Ziva sighed. It was never easy to get her daughter to sit still for long enough to untangle her unbelievably long hair. Tali loved her own hair and Ziva usually went right along with that love, if only for all the different hairstyles they could do them up in to Tali's wholehearted delight. Tony, on the other hand, had long abandoned any involvement in his daughter's hair-matters if it could be at all avoided. One evening, not too long after his return to Washington, Tony had been in charge of bath time, and Tali had made it a particularly trying experience what with drenching him in water, bubbles and soap, with running off buck naked, with hiding and with fighting against his every attempt to get her to comply. All that had continued until Ziva had appeared, asking in that low, stern voice of hers if Tali would prefer they got her hair cut first thing in the morning.

As parents, they both were pretty lenient on determining a myriad of rules and regulations for their children to follow. They had both experienced childhoods of strict rule-adherence, Ziva with her father's Mossad-grooming and Tony with all those years in boarding school. However, when it came to the everyday lines that needn't be overstepped, Ziva certainly had the more convincing stand. That's also how Ziva had become Tali's prime hairdresser.

For the past ten minutes she had actually allowed herself to hope this time would go by without the odd and small calamity - well, alas. When Ziva's eyes rose towards her partner, Tony was smiling back at her sheepishly, understanding quite well where the look of silently lost hope in her eyes was coming from. Ziva chuckled.

"Pasta or yucky vegetables?", David perked up, slipping through the crack between the doorframe and Tony leaning against it.

"We're kinda disagreeing here", Tony clarified with a sly smile and Liora confirmed his statement with an emphatic nod. Ziva couldn't hold back her laughter.

"No yucky vegetables, daddy. Mommy 'ready made 'em yesterday", Tali declared, shaking her head for emphasis. "Pasta!"

"You set yourself up for that, my love", Ziva comforted the defeated look on Tony's face.

David was looking up at his father victoriously. "I'll help."

"How gracious", Tony quipped, throwing his arm around his son and turned, calling over his shoulder on their way downstairs. "You will be served, m'ladies."

By the time Ziva returned downstairs with Tali, her hair fixed into a single braid per her request, Tony had merely accomplished gathering all the pans and ingredients on the counter. Any further task had obviously been suspended by providing the entertainment to his niece that Liora obviously seemed to wholeheartedly enjoy. Ziva chuckled inwardly. With their own kids he toned himself down a notch or two sometimes. Like now, without Liora there, Ziva would have probably entered the kitchen to find father and son working alongside each other in a comfortable rhythm. There was nothing left to prove; daddy was daddy. Right now, however, Tony relished his standing as the game show host of their evening.

"Look, Zee-vah", Liora called over when mother and daughter stepped into the room. She wriggled excitedly in the stool Tony had placed her on, indicating the tray in front of her. "Unca Tony made a face!"

"Yes, your Uncle Tony can be very…_creative_ if he wants to be", Ziva quipped, moving to stand behind her niece to see for herself: On the tray Tony had arranged glasses, plates and various pasta sticks to form a lopsided smiley face. When she looked up at him, Tony merely grinned. "How about you and Tali go play in the living room, while we actually start on dinner?" It was more of a statement than a question, as she was already lifting Liora off the stool and placing her on the floor, where Tali quickly grabbed her cousin's hand and both girls darted out of the kitchen.

Turning back around, Ziva found Tony holding out a carrot stick to her, an endearing smile on his face. Narrowing her eyes a little, Ziva leaned forward and took a bite, briefly catching his lips in the process. He smiled against her and winked, then stepped aside to make room for his son. Together they helped David onto the stool between them and got to work. The eight-year-old divided his sous-chef tasks between both parents, Tony and Ziva falling into an easy routine of cooking and good-natured bickering. Tali and Liora would appear every so often for an update on dinner until, eventually, Tony ushered them towards the kitchen table.

Fastening the bib she had just found in Liora's backpack around the two-year-old's neck, Ziva leaned around her niece. "Do you need help and do you want to eat by yourself?"

"All 'self", Liora declared, smiling proudly.

"There you go then, big girl", Tony said, handing her one of Tali's old princess forks that matched the spare princess plate they had always kept in case Tali's favorite one quit its service.

"I'm your big girl too, daddy, right?", Tali chimed in suddenly from where she was sitting on Tony's other side. Ziva, who was just taking her seat between Liora and David, smiled inwardly. When it came to the open need for attention, father and daughter were blatantly alike.

"Sure you are, princess", Tony assured her, leaning in for a kiss before starting to cut up the five-year-old's dinner.

Ziva meanwhile placed a glass of water in front of David. "Yehiyeh asher yehiyeh", she whispered with a knowing smile, her words only meant for her son. The eight-year-old grinned up at her before turning back to his dinner and Ziva focused onto her other side and Liora's fighting it out with her plate.

After a little more eating upheaval than they usually dealt with now, Tony and Ziva cleared away its remnants while the kids busied themselves with assembling enough pillows and blankets to render their couch comfortable enough for their traditional movie night. Tony left to join them upon handing Ziva the last plate. She started the dishwasher and wiped down the kitchen table, and by the time she entered the living room Tony was already putting on an elaborate show, like a theater director announcing a grand masterpiece. The kids evidently enjoyed it and Ziva couldn't help but feel transported back to their time many years ago when movie nights had been their go-to theme for the evenings. They had started to turn them into weekly fixtures in that summer after Gibbs' departure, leaning onto each other to fill the void that their mentor - even if in very different ways - had left behind. And after going to hell and back they had rekindled that special thing in those months leading up to a kiss and well beyond that. Even though she cherished the memories of those nights and loved to think of nights alone with Tony, those movie nights they held now, with their kids, were sometimes an even bigger testament to the life they had built and the journey they had taken.

Ziva eventually snuggled up on the couch with the girls by her side while Tony and David spread out on the floor, the coffee table having been replaced by a bundle of pillows. By the time _Alice_ was heading home for tea with her sister, both Tali and Liora had fallen into a daze of watching the events onscreen and fighting sleep. Tony and Ziva nudged them awake enough to take them upstairs and tuck them in. For the night Tony had, somewhat cumbersomely, turned Tali's single bed into a much broader, albeit lower version of itself. However, it seemed that their looming bedtime had reinvigorated the girls' spirits. Liora's book especially failed at its actual purpose, causing the two-year-old to re-tell the stories her Aunt and Uncle were remembering about the pictures in the way her mommy and daddy usually did.

More than three quarters of an hour later Ziva and Tony finally rose from Tali's bed, the girls having succumbed to sleep at long last. They stopped in the doorway, the soft light of Tali's fairy lamp caressing their peaceful features.

Tony slung an arm around Ziva. "Kinda looks like we have a third one, doesn't it?" Almost instantly, he could feel Ziva tense beneath his touch, her eyes drifting away from her daughter and niece. Tony smiled meekly. "It was a joke, not a suggestion."

"I know", Ziva answered absently, slipping out of Tony's embrace and moving towards her son's room.

David was sitting up in his bed, reading. Lately, the eight-year-old's bedtime-story-phase had gradually expired, reminding both Tony and Ziva that their little boy was growing up and ever more independent. If not specifically requested, they wouldn't usually offer reading him a story now - something they had been doing, alternately, ever since he had been a baby. Life's small milestones, they were.

"Layla tov, tateleh." Ziva smiled, leaning down to brush back some strands of hair and plant a kiss against his forehead.

He briefly looked up and smiled. "Night." Ziva was already stepping out the door, doorknob in hand, when his voice suddenly called her back. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

He seemed unsure about his question for a moment, biting his lip. Ziva waited patiently. Making up his mind, he sat up straighter. "Do you think about your mom?", he inquired, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a mash of uneasiness.

Ziva felt taken aback, but she should have been used to it by now. Leave it to David to always ask the most profound questions at the most random of times. Stepping back into the room, slowly, Ziva decided not to follow her first instinct and ask about the whereabouts of his inquiry. "Not as much as I used to", she answered quietly, a small smile settling on her lips. "But yes, I think about her."

"When?"

Ziva sighed quietly. She walked over to his bed and sat down on the edge, facing her son. "Mostly when I am reminded of her", she said, chuckling softly. "I still remember the kind of perfume she was wearing, her favorite color, the way her eyes shone when she smiled. It is mostly little things, memories that make me remember her and think about her."

David seemed to mull this over in his head for some time. In the meantime Ziva took to slightly stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, watching him ponder his next question. "Do you miss her?"

"Yes, I do", Ziva confirmed sincerely, not having to think about her answer. "But it is different now."

The eight-year-old frowned. "How?"

Ziva smiled gently. "Because I do not feel lonely anymore."

The frown on David's face creased with even deeper wrinkles. "You were lonely?"

"Once, yes. Before I met your dad, before I came to America", Ziva relayed easily, keeping her smile. "But now I have you and Tali and your father. And I have your Auntie Abby, and Uncle Tim and Liora. Gibbs… Ducky and Jimmy. I have more family now than I ever had and it made me miss my mother a lot less."

"But you had Saba Eli, didn't you?"

Ziva reached up and absently smoothed back some of David's light brown hair, noticing how it had darkened again. "When I was your age, my father was not around very often. I only had Ari…and my little sister and we took care of each other."

"Do you miss them more, 'cause you knew them for longer?"

Ziva slightly shook her head. "That is not what makes us miss people. It is how much we love them that makes us miss them. But when they were all gone, I felt very alone."

"But you don't anymore, right?", David inquired quickly, feeling the need to make sure.

Ziva laughed softly. "No, not anymore."

"I love you, mom." He bent forward and engulfed her in a hug, resting his head against her chest.

Ziva tilted her head and brushed a kiss against his hair, holding onto him. "I love you too, neshomeleh." After staying in that position for a while, Ziva eventually drew back a little to look into her son's emerald green eyes. "David, why all these questions?"

He shrugged. "Just wanted to know, I guess." Upon Ziva's narrowing eyes, however, he caved. "Two years ago today Tommy's dad died and we- we talked about it in class. And my teacher asked if we wanted to talk about people we knew who died too and I didn't know if I was allowed to say something, 'cause I never met my Dod or my Dodah or my grandmas."

"Of course you can talk about them, tateleh", Ziva explained gently. "I know your dad and I, we do not talk about them very often, but do not ever think that you cannot talk to us about them if you feel like it."

"But you don't like it, right?", David said quietly, familiar to the odd shift he felt whenever his late relatives came up.

Ziva stayed silent for a moment. After all, that was a serious question to ponder. And no, she didn't particularly enjoy all of the memories she saw flashing before her eyes whenever she thought about them or talked about them, but that was far from denying them any place in her life. "I think…", she started, her eyes briefly dropping to the floor. "I think they would be proud and happy to be remembered, no matter how and no matter by whom."

Satisfied with that answer for now, David nodded a few moments later. "Okay."

"Okay", Ziva repeated with a smile, rising from her position on the bed and holding up the covers for the eight-year-old to crawl into.

"You think they'd like me?", he asked suddenly.

Ziva bent down and kissed his cheek. "I think they would love you... Just like I do, tateleh."

He smiled and folded his hands beneath his head, closing his eyes to sleep.

* * *

><p>A little over an hour later, Ziva sat reading in her own bed. David's words and the memories they had offset kept replaying in her head, however, making it particularly hard to concentrate on the words written on paper in front of her. Tony had joined her a few minutes earlier. After changing into his nightclothes, he had claimed the side next to her and started drawing circles on her upper arm with his fingers, silently pondering. Ziva didn't mind. She knew he kept busy with caresses like that whenever he was thinking.<p>

"You're happy, right?", he asked out of the blue, briefly startling her and causing her to skip a few lines.

"Yes, I am", she answered sincerely, but not yet looking up. It was a preface, she could feel it. It almost made her smile. The Tony DiNozzo people knew could break their spirits by force of self-confidence and cockiness. The Tony DiNozzo Ziva knew, however, dissected his life for moments of reassurance: of her love, of being a good enough father, investigator, friend. There were so many layers to the man she loved, and that's why she loved him.

"No regrets", he started again, their eyes still not meeting.

Ziva sighed quietly and shut her book. "I regret a lot of things", she stated, and it was true. There were too many choices littering her past not to have made mistakes.

"About us?"

She tilted her head to find his eyes. He stopped the absent caress of her arm, raising his eyebrows at her. "If I was sure to have all this without making some of the mistakes I made, I probably would regret them more."

He lightly brushed her lips against hers. "Do you think about what could have been?"

Her mouth opened and slipped shut. "Does it really matter?"

"I guess not", he mumbled, quickly sliding down and under the covers. "Early day tomorrow."

Ziva watched his eyes close. "Tony."

"What?"

"Tell me what is on your mind", she educed, her voice gentle and calm.

He rolled his eyes up at her, his expression all but serious. "I just want you to know that I wouldn't change a thing…about anything."

"I know that", she declared easily. "But it is still nice to hear sometimes."

She leaned down and settled her lips against his, absently shoving the book in her hand onto her nightstand. He slipped an arm around her waist, gently pulling her closer to him so that her torso now rested on top of his. One of her hands skimmed though his hair, while the other one rested against his chest, clasping his shirt, clasping what was hers. Meanwhile, his free hand started its journey along her body, meandering down her side until the soft silk material of her nightgown turned into the bareness of her flesh. He slipped past the hook-shaped scar on her upper thigh and travelled back north beneath the silky cloth, past her hips. He quickly shifted both of them to the left until they were lying on their sides, facing each other. He ran his hand to her back and snapped her bra open, her sudden smile breaking their kiss. For a moment they rested their eyes in each other's, then he released her from his grasp and she fell back against the mattress with a soft thud, a mischievous glisten in her eyes, her hands intertwined at the back of his neck. Just when Tony was about to follow his hand's soft caress of her bare cleavage up with his lips, the opening door creaked and he froze.

"Mommy, daddy, Liora and me's thirsty", came Tali's drowsy voice from somewhere in the doorframe.

Tony looked down at Ziva and saw the same disappointed excitement he knew would be reflected in his eyes as well. He flung himself back onto his side of the bed with a soft moan. "You might wanna take this one", he growled, running a hand through his hair. "I'm a little indisposed here."

Ziva couldn't suppress a chuckle, leaning in for one last kiss before getting out of bed and walking over to her daughter and niece, both looking a little disheveled. Ziva bent down and hoisted Liora onto her hip, slinging her free arm around her daughter. "Let's get you some water, girls."

"Bring me some up too, will you?", Tony called after her. "Daddy needs some serious coolin' down."

Ziva merely chuckled and left, the girls in tow.

* * *

><p><em>This chapter: please <em>_**review**__. Next chapter: the first big __**bang**__._


	17. Strike One

**Chap 17 Strike One**

**Saturday, March 27****th**** 2021**

Green light strips shone through the hazy darkness of the room with the numbers 5:32 as Ziva's eyes fluttered open that Saturday. It was not unusual for her to wake that early. The more late winter was fading into early spring, the more Ziva would start alternating her mornings between running and trips to the pool. And seeing as the latter took up more of her time, the weekend gave her ample opportunity for it. Tony and Tali could not be roused from slumber if it wasn't for school or work anyway, and David would just occupy himself until his mother's return.

Ziva shifted from her side to her back, a low breath escaping her lips as she drew the covers a little farther up her body. Over the years she had come to cherish weekends. Ever since her childhood weekends had not held a particularly relaxing or joyous routine, operations and missions happened beyond the measure of time anyway, and afterwards she had basked in the sheer convenience of not having to deal with herself too much whenever Gibbs had them work on weekends. Weekends had been too suitable a time to start thinking, pondering, so she had always made a habit of filling them to the brim with activities, dates, training, work.

Tony, however, had mastered the art of weekend leisure and he had been insistent on passing this on to Ziva by the time they had started spending all their free time together - after Somalia, after mending. Some of her most precious memories with Tony had happened on weekends, Saturday and Sunday, two days that had harbored so much promise, so much life. And now, with the kids, weekends tended to make up for all the time they spent apart throughout the week and both she and Tony tried to charge them with as much _'being family'_ as they could.

Today, however, was different - a good different, at least for the kids. A swift smile flittered across Ziva's face and she looked over to find Tony still slumbering deeply and peacefully. She would have to wake him soon, always proving more effective than the alarm clock he routinely slammed on the floor. But not quite yet.

She moved over and rested her head on Tony's shoulder, turning her face into his chest and breathing in his scent. Stirring but without really waking, Tony's arms instantly wrapped themselves around her body, pulling her a little closer.

"Too early", Tony mumbled against her hair, smiling at the way Ziva cuddled up closer to him.

It had taken their relationship a great deal of time and an even a greater deal of trust before Ziva had felt comfortable enough, safe enough to let herself be touched and held like that. There had been a time when he would have given anything for her not to choke up and shy away from him whenever he had held her too close. And now, ten years later, they still couldn't be close enough.

"We have three kids to deal with today", Ziva informed him pointedly.

He barely acknowledged her, however, grumbling something inaudible and falling back to sleep a second later. Ziva couldn't help but smile. She stayed in his arms for another half-hour, then slipped out of the bed and quickly got herself ready. On her way to the closet she stopped over at their bed, sitting down on the edge and skimming a hand through Tony's tousled hair.

His lips moved and a guttural growl made it past his throat, but it wasn't anything Ziva could hope to discern. "I will get the girls and you get David and breakfast", she told him quietly, continuing her soft caress despite his lack of response. "Abby and Tim should be here in about forty minutes."

That finally managed to catch Tony's full attention. "Forty?", he repeated in drowsy disbelief, raising his head from his pillow to look at her.

"Too long, too short?"

"Too early", he slurred, jolting upright and running a hand down his face.

"You can take on the girls too, if that will wake you faster", Ziva suggested, arching an eyebrow.

Knowing he would never agree to rise up to that challenge in his sleep-drunken state anyway, she moved to stand up but Tony's arm immediately shot out and grabbed a hold of her. With furrowed brows her eyes dropped to his hand and slid all the way up from his wrist, across his biceps, shoulder, neck and towards his gaze of utter mischievousness. Leaning forward she captured his lips, their tongues quickly engaging and their upper bodies soon pressed against each other. Almost simultaneously, however, they broke apart.

"It looks like we may soon have to ask Abby and McGee to return the babysitting favor again, yes?", Ziva asked with a playful smirk.

Tony groaned as he climbed out of bed. "Make that sooner rather than later." Ziva chuckled.

The rest of their early morning went by in an uneventful haze. David was tired but compliant, eventually waking up over his third spoon of cereal. Tali was a different matter, but Ziva knew the little girl would have probably put up much more of a fight if it hadn't been for Liora trotting along on their morning routine. Ziva, too, harbored the suspicion that the two-year-old wasn't usually that acquiescent on quite so few hours of sleep. That suspicion was somewhat verified by the time Abby and McGee entered their apartment and, first thing, Liora climbed off her chair, waddled over into her mother's awaiting arms and settled on Abby's shoulder with a heavy sigh.

They were going to a water park today that had recently opened right outside Washington - Abby's idea, after her brother Luca had spent the whole of their latest phone conversation gushing over it. Initially, it had been set up as a little refund for Liora-sitting - _and_ because Abby and the kids had actually fallen in love with the idea -, but tending to Dustin Leahy's bouts of paranoia would probably take up most of Tony's and Ziva's day now. McGee had quickly offered to accompany them, but they had declined, both sensing the quiet shadows in their two best friends might not have been solely due to lack of sleep.

A few minutes after bidding the kids goodbye found Tony behind the wheel of his Mustang, a visible frown on his face as the radio summed quietly along. "Eight o'clock on a Saturday morning. Uncle Sam's schedule really is precious."

"You have already had two cups of coffee", Ziva declared curtly, turning towards him. "Stop whining."

"Nobody told me McEarlybird and Abby were taking them to that park at the crack of dawn", he grimaced, taking a turn to the left.

"Actually, I told you. Three times."

He scowled. "Hard truths sink in slowly", he retorted, grabbing his sunglasses from the center stack.

Ziva merely rolled her eyes, looking back out of the window. Tony's grumblings were not the most urgent thoughts on her mind right now. He noticed with bewilderment how quickly Ziva had waved off his demeanor. He cast her a few sideways glances while stopping at a red light.

"McGees were pretty pensive this morning, don't ya think?", he started once they were on the move again.

Ziva nodded, not returning his look. "So they were."

"Could've been fighting", Tony offered.

"No, this was different."

Tony briefly caught her look and her drift. "You think something might have happened at the adoption agency last night?"

Ziva started to nod, but was instantly interrupted when she recognized the building right in front of them. "That's it."

Tony quickly hit the brakes and swerved, parking the car somewhat off the side of the parking lot where they would be meeting Leahy. They were ten minutes early, but for the remainder of that time they stayed silent. Their trained eyes roamed their surroundings when they stepped out of the car. The parking lot was surrounded by blocks of flats and some lower buildings, cafés and shops. A multistory building under construction doused the scene in an obnoxious shade.

Suddenly Ziva's gaze jumped to the coffee shop at the corner of the street. Tony followed her line of vision, recognizing the way those lines around her eyes had momentarily creased. But there was nothing there.

"Fata morgana?", he asked curiously, slipping his sunglasses into his pockets.

Ziva squinted her eyes almost shut, her stare lingering on the shop for another second. "It seems."

Tony nodded faintly. He consulted his watch: two minutes past eight. Leahy was late, which seemed odd for a man he had filed under 'neurotically anal'. Before he could finish that thought, however, they spotted Dustin Leahy strolling towards them from the other side of the parking lot, the pace of his steps divulging some sense of urgency. When he was close enough, they noticed a brownish envelope in his hand.

"You showed up", Leahy remarked without further ado, keeping a few steps away from them.

Tony scoffed. "Of course we did."

"I'd not have thought-"

"Mr. Leahy", Ziva started, the kindness of her tone alerting him to how differently she had addressed him only three days ago. "Do you really think that you are in danger?"

"Yes", he confirmed at once, indicating the envelope. "And I have proof."

Tony and Ziva shared a look. They couldn't deny that he actually looked shaken to the core. His hair was unkempt, his clothes looked slept-in - there seemed nothing left of the man whose socks had matched the color of his tie. Tony took a step towards him. "Okay. Why don't you come with us to a safer place and-"

But he was stopped short by the spluttering of a splintering skull. The sound of a howling gunshot followed shortly. With a deadly thud Dustin Leahy collapsed onto the concrete, a potage of red forming beneath his head. The envelope slipped from his rigid fingers.

Charged with alert, both Ziva and Tony whirled around in search for the source of the shot, but there was nothing to see. With but one look at the gaping hole on the side of Leahy's head as Tony crouched down to examine him, and with another look at the splinters of organic matter, they knew that bullet had been discharged at a distance, they knew the kind of bullet that matched the kind of mess they were seeing.

Tony turned, looking up at Ziva. They were ensconced by the silence of their own shock for a moment before the waves of noise started to break in on them. People around them were becoming aware of what had happened. This, they had not expected.

* * *

><p>Only about half an hour later the scene had been called to order by local LEOs. While Tony had alerted Metro PD, Ziva had called McGee. Seeing as Leahy had been in no way connected to the Navy - other than two Navy cops having just allowed him to get shot on their watch - jurisdiction was a matter to be negotiated.<p>

The chatter of onlookers was drowning out the bustle of preliminary processing. Tony had soon vanished to deal with the bureaucracy of the job, while Ziva had a hard time taking her eyes off the corpse in front of her. A pool of blood had formed underneath what was left of the back of Leahy's skull and had slowly oozed its way along the concrete, filling up the pores of its disintegrated surface. Some spots had already been dried up by the growing sun and the warmth emitted by the asphalt, other spots were glistening moistly. Ziva seemed mesmerized by the sight and was startled when McGee put a hand on her shoulder.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

Ziva merely nodded her head. With a last glance to Leahy's face that was lying pale within the red, she turned to look at him. "How-"

A small smile dripped from his lips. "Abby's staying with the kids. They'll get a cab back to the city later", he explained quickly. His eyes only briefly dropped to Leahy's corpse. Instead, he held out the camera to her. "Tony just talked them into leaving us the crime scene."

Ziva took the camera and got started. McGee meanwhile took some measurements with his laptop of the conditions, of distances and positions, feeding the information into a three-dimensional sketch of the scene. Ziva looked up, watching Tony gesticulate wildly opposite some man in a trench coat. From the outset there really was nothing unusual about it. Something was making her insides churn, though. Something was off. It was different. Different, because there weren't any witnesses to be questioned, because Tony and she were the only witnesses of interest.

Palmer's arrival and the subsequent removal of the body broke the silence that had easily settled between the two partners-in-field. Tony re-joined them the moment Ziva plucked the cover back onto the lens of the camera.

"Finished?", he asked tersely, his gaze briefly skipping to the crusting blood between them. McGee shut his laptop and nodded.

Back in the Navy Yard they regrouped in the evidence garage, where McGee offered to take care of the tedious logging procedures. Grateful, Tony and Ziva left to go upstairs and write up the report they knew would keep shadowing them for quite some time to come. When the elevator arrived at the dull silence that was Saturday in the squadroom, however, Director Vance was already waiting for them beyond the opening doors.

He was wearing a dark blue Cardigan over a light blue shirt, its sleeves rolled up to three quarters. "Others get a couple's massage at a Spa on Saturday morning", he remarked, a deep scowl adorning his face.

Ziva joined her hands in front of her body, remaining silent. Tony, however, raised his eyebrows. "I briefed you on the meeting."

Vance nodded vaguely. "Clear your Sunday too then", he said. "Booked you for an eval in the morning."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Leahy asked for the meeting."

"Then how come there's a bullet in his head?", Vance shot back. Tony's jaw clenched. "We gotta assure the integrity of the case. Mandatory session with psych. Strictly by the book."

Ziva responded with a simple nod, excusing herself and striding towards the bullpen. Tony, however, didn't move from his spot between elevator and Director. "Never been one for the libraries", he retorted.

"What's your kicker, DiNozzo?", Vance asked, the corners of his mouth slightly turning upwards.

"We get to stay on the case. Leahy's part of this", Tony ascertained. "I know it."

Vance looked at him for a moment, scrutinizing the look in Tony's eyes. Then he folded his hands behind his back, straightened up to his full height, and nodded. A small smile erupted on his face that quickly vanished again and Vance left, turning towards the stairs to go back up. Feeling unusually agitated, Tony crossed Ziva's path just as she was passing his desk to leave the bullpen for the back elevator. He placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to spin around and face him.

"We could've never seen that coming", he declared. "It's not our fault."

Ziva stared at him. "Leahy's dead."

"He sought our help. We helped him. We did our jobs", Tony repeated. "I have no idea what exactly happened out there, but it is what it is."

Ziva nodded. "I know it is."

She left him to boot his computers. Stepping into the shower rooms downstairs, Ziva looked at herself in the mirror for only a brief second. She had no particular desire to see herself right now. Instead, she started to slip out of her jacket and shirt. It was Saturday afternoon. There weren't enough people on call to warrant her worry on anybody accidently barging in on her. When the door did open, however, she was wearing only her underwear. But she didn't even turn. It was Tony.

He snapped the lock on the door shut before starting to get undressed as well. They had wiped off most of the blood splatter on-scene, but there still was blood on their clothes and hiding in spots on the sides of their faces. They had both brought the second set of clothing they kept in their lockers just in case. They needed to do this. They couldn't go home to their children with blood stains on them. And they needed the water not only to wash off evident stains, but also the shock of that day's events.

Naked, they stayed still for a moment, just looking at each other. Ziva's eyes instinctually fell on the penny-sized, bulgy scar sitting on Tony's left shoulder blade, remainder of that bullet piercing his shoulder ten years ago. Similarly, Tony's emerald eyes dropped to the _Omega_-shaped welt stretching between Ziva's groin areas. It was strange how it reminded him more of that day Ziva had finally allowed his routine exploration of her marked body to reach below her abdomen - rather than the sickening image of how that contour had been imprinted on her body. Then their eyes met for a brief second before they stepped into separate shower cubicles.

Looking at the water trickling from the shower head onto his face, Tony realized that he had hardly ever been caught so entirely off-guard by a bullet. In all his years as a cop and as an NCIS Agent, he had always - and if only in the most vigilant part of his mind - anticipated an attack. Today, however, had been different.

In the cubicle next to Tony's Ziva braced her arms against the shower screen and let the cold water run down her back. With her head bowed forward she watched the water pool around her feet. Memories raced through her mind. She had watched many people, men and women, get shot and she had watched them die in front of her eyes. She had stood next to many people, men and women, while they had been shot, while they had died. She had learned to always anticipate the bullet - growing up within Mossad had taught her that. Maybe she had unlearned it during her years in the U.S. It seemed she had started anticipating bullets only when there was enough evidence to account for that anticipation.

Today that bullet had come out of nowhere.

It wasn't only that they had lost someone, that somebody had died under their watch, that they had allowed this to happen, even though they probably could have done nothing to prevent it. Nothing of this made any sense. Why Leahy? Why right there? And how did anybody know where they would meet - in the middle of nowhere? Had Leahy trusted someone and been betrayed? Had he been followed? But, apparently, Leahy had already been in hiding for quite a while by then. Had someone overheard their conversation, tapped their phone and followed them? But why? It always came back to the most basic, yet complicated question there was: Why?

Yet, it wasn't just that. It was also the _what-if_ that ate away at both Tony and Ziva that evening. If anything had gone wrong in that shot, one of them would have been dead now. And pondering the possibility of losing each other after all those close calls in their past - that was even more unbearable than knowing they couldn't have helped the way things had played out today.

Not too long and Ziva slipped out of the shower room, re-dressed and feeling clean, to the sound of water still running on Tony's side. Up in the bullpen she tucked away her bloody clothes in an evidence bag and placed it on Tony's desk. Signing off on Vance's order for their eval session the next day, she put it with the bag and started typing in the report of today's events. Tony arrived a few minutes later, barely acknowledging Ziva behind her desk. He added his clothes to the bag and called for one of the lab techs to put it with today's evidence. Muttering something under his breath, he also signed the form before starting on his report as well.

When McGee entered the squadroom a while later, he found both of them typing and silent as evening started to settle beyond the bay windows. Alternating his gaze between them, he announced, "I logged all the evidence and got it sorted for Abby to take a look at on Monday. Also got Metro's records and added them to be re-processed. Abby won't wanna rely on their results anyway."

Ziva briefly raised her head and offered him an appreciative smile. Tony did the same, adding, "Thanks, Tim."

"You're welcome", McGee answered blankly. He watched them for a moment longer. "Abby just texted that they're on their way back now."

Ziva nodded, tapping her mouse and getting up to retrieve the printed version of her report. Turning to McGee, she suggested, "Can you tell Abby to go to our place? It is on their way and-"

"Sure." McGee smiled and already reached for his phone.

"Time to go home", Ziva declared, sending a look into Tony's direction. They needed home, they both knew it. They needed Tali and David.

"Already walking away", Tony retorted. He took a folder with their reports and the signed form upstairs, where Director Vance was waiting for him on the walkway.

Ziva watched them talk while she bundled her things up, got Tony's stuff from his desk and waited for him at the foot of the stairs. In the elevator Tony reached for Ziva's hand and she gladly received his touch with a squeeze, their gazes going unnoticed by McGee.

They arrived at their apartment mere minutes before the cab with Abby and the kids pulled up in front of the building. Almost instantly, the doors were flung open as Tali and David jumped out, running to shower their parents with a well of excited stories about their day at the water park. Tony quickly bypassed their joy so as to pay the cab, having agreed with Ziva on their way back from the Navy Yard that it was the least they could do.

Behind him he could hear McGee brushing off Liora's and David's questions as to his sudden disappearance with _'work stuff'_ and smiled. They were just trying to keep the atrocities they came across in their line of work out of their private life, out of their family life. Home was supposed to be a safe haven, untainted and pure.

"Tali, you are soaking wet!", Ziva exclaimed suddenly when the little girl had finally moved in to hug her.

"Yeah, we kinda had a little accident", Abby explained meekly.

Tony came back over to inspect his daughter's status. Tali was wrapped into what seemed to be Abby's sweater, her hair sticking damply to her back and her sneakers dispensing little reliefs of water all over the sidewalk.

"She slipped and fell into the baby pool", David recounted quickly, unable to keep a grin from his face.

"All wet!", Liora added pointedly, grinning as well.

Abby tried to suppress her smile, especially considering Ziva's slightly appalled expression. "We were just on the way out and went back to look at the slides, when- you know…"

"Didn't we pack spare clothes in case they were too much our kids?", Tony put in, remembering the backpack he had hurriedly assorted in the morning.

"We were already halfway there when we remembered leaving it by the door", McGee answered, a small apologetic smile flittering across his face.

"I'm gettin' cold, mommy", Tali chimed in, however, before anyone could add anything to that.

The five-year-old snuggled deeper into her mother's embrace. Noticing her daughter's shivering, Ziva quickly scooped her up. "Let's get you into a hot bath then." Turning back towards Abby and McGee, she added, "Thank you for taking them."

"My pleasure", Abby beamed. And they knew it was true.

* * *

><p>Tony and David had eventually relocated their evening to the living room. They were going through menus for take-out, both Tony and Ziva not in the mood for bigger or more elaborate dinner plans and much more in the mood for a peaceful evening with the kids. Meanwhile Ziva was giving Tali a bath upstairs. After the little girl's shivers had sufficiently quieted down, Ziva fished her out of the water and wrapped her up in a towel. Not having wasted any time to lay out the five-year-old's pajamas and not wanting her to get cold either, Ziva quickly dried her off and kept the towel around her little body, gathering her in her arms and carrying her to her room.<p>

Out in the hallway light, however, something suddenly caught the five-year-old's eye. "What's that, mommy?", she asked, touching the side of Ziva's face at a spot close to her ear.

"What is what?", Ziva countered, tilting her head a little to the side.

"It's a red spot. Mommy, you hurt?", Tali elaborated quickly, a hint of alarm creeping into her voice.

Ziva immediately turned to the mirror hanging above the little table in front of their bedroom. She shifted Tali to her other side and inspected her right ear. The little girl was right, there really was a small red spot. She had obviously failed to wash every last speck of caked-on blood from her face. Ziva started rubbing at the spot angrily, her jaw clenching, until there was nothing left of it but a small inflammation of her skin. She remained in front of the mirror for a while, examining her face closely for any leftover blood. Relieved to have obliterated the last evident trace of their Saturday, Ziva turned to offer her daughter a reassuring smile and continued on their way to Tali's room, to getting the little girl dressed and to enjoying an evening with her family - just the four of them.

* * *

><p><em>Just gettin' started... <strong>Next chapter:<strong> psych truths._


	18. Striking On

**Chap 18 Striking On**

**Sunday, March 28****th**** 2021**

Ziva was propped up on the sink in front of the bathroom mirror when Tony suddenly wrapped his arms around her middle from behind. "Early", he mumbled into her ear, kissing the side of her face.

"You should not have stayed up as late then", Ziva said, smiling as she turned to fully catch his lips in a morning kiss.

"Me?", Tony exclaimed, snuggling deeper into the crook of her neck. "David wanted to watch the third part and I planned on him falling asleep halfway through, but he wouldn't and then he kept poking me awake."

Ziva chuckled. "So, it's his fault?"

"No, actually it's your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yep", Tony repeated, pulling her closer as she tried to turn her puzzled expression towards him. "You're supposed to have my back, and what'd you do? Fall asleep with Tali."

She shrugged. "I was beat."

"So was I", Tony confirmed with a huff. "And now, what am I doing at seven on Sunday morning? Going to work."

"It is not work, but an eval session. And it will only last an hour, then you can go back to your Sunday morning sleeping", Ziva cautioned, snapping the flask in her hand shut.

"Psych eval... I still don't get why we're supposed to go there in the first place."

Ziva studied his reflection. "It's mandatory."

Tony scoffed. "For probies and newbies maybe, but you and I? No bees."

"Vance seems to consider it warranted", Ziva stated, a tone of finality in her voice.

"He may think there's some good that can come of this, but that doesn't make _me_ think that."

"Tony", Ziva started, fixing him with her eyes in the mirror, "If it really weren't any good, we would probably not be here at all."

She let her words sink in for a moment, then slipped out of his dwindling embrace and went over to the stool by the window where she had deposited her clothes. She let her nightgown glide down her body and retrieved her shirt. It briefly covered her eyes as she pulled it over her face. When she resurfaced, Tony was standing right in front of her.

"I know that", he declared simply. "I know that you have a reason to believe in this and that I have a reason to believe in it through you."

"I just ask you to give it a chance", she conceded, freeing her curls from underneath the shirt and pulling them into a tight ponytail. "You enjoy talking about yourself after all."

"I do, but when I'm talking about myself I'm usually not talking about myself." A small smile crept onto his face. "There's only one person I really wanna talk to."

"Maybe you should embrace the chance to say to someone else what you cannot say to me", Ziva suggested, tilting her head a little to the side.

"Can I write?", Tony quipped.

Ziva rolled her eyes. The seriousness was broken, and sometimes there was no point in going on from there. So, instead, she grabbed her pants and put them on, not looking up at him. Only when Tony grasped her hand did she turn her attention back to him.

"I'll try, s'what I can promise", he offered, sincerity back in his eyes.

Ziva nodded, gently running her thumb over the back of his hand on her way out to wake the kids.

* * *

><p>"Thank you so much…<em>again<em>", Ziva said, wrapping Abby into a grateful hug. "After yesterday-"

Ziva wanted her words to maybe trigger a bit more. Her senses were attuned to picking up on whatever it was that she and Tony had noticed yesterday morning. They had both failed to pay attention to it in the evening, rattled by the shock of their own day, but Tony's brief look told her that he was cautiously worried as well. Something must have happened at the adoption agency, they were sure of it. But there was no point in pestering them. They would tell them when they were ready, they always did.

"Don't worry about it", McGee waved her off, holding the door to their apartment open with one hand and receiving a backpack from Tony with the other.

"We love having them over", Abby added, pulling back from her best friend to look at her with honest-open eyes. "We always have a blast-est. Right, you?"

Abby looked down at Tali, who was still standing there holding Ziva's hand. The little girl smiled sweetly at her Auntie before tugging at her mother's arm. Ziva quickly obliged and crouched down in front of her daughter. "Is it about the red spot on your face?", the five-year-old whispered into Ziva's ear, her voice gravely serious.

"No", Ziva reassured her quickly. "No, of course not. You do not need to worry about that, tateleh."

"Mommy and daddy just need to work a little bit more today, princess", Tony substituted, bending down to her level as well. "You know how that sometimes happens."

"But why isn't Uncle Tim coming with you?", David inquired, looking between his parents and his Uncle.

McGee opened his mouth to speak, but Tony was faster. "He already did all his work yesterday when he left early from the water park, you know", he said, briefly catching McGee's smile.

"You'll be late?", Tali asked.

Ziva smiled. "We will try not to be, tateleh."

Tali nodded and let herself be engulfed in a hug by both of her parents. They repeated their goodbyes with David before the kids ran off into the apartment, already well acquainted with the how-to at their Aunt and Uncle's place. When Tony and Ziva eventually left, they had thanked their friends twice more and had insisted they wanted to be interrupted if anything came up. At the Navy Yard they stepped into the elevator after entering their building and opted for the second floor, the on-duty counselor's office. In front of the door they offered each other a smile and parted for the time being.

"Good morning, Ziva", the woman on the chair by the window greeted, a gentle smile adorning her face. She seemed to be around forty to forty-five years old, her blonde-brownish hair was pulled back in a messy bun and she was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, simple jeans and a matching scarf around her neck. A clipboard stacked with paper rested in her lap.

"I thought you might have switched to a tablet by now", Ziva noted with a small smile, taking a few steps into the room.

She shrugged. "I guess I like the sound of pen meets paper."

Ziva nodded, crossing the last few feet of distance and sat down on the couch, facing her. A small table was situated to her right side, not exactly separating her from the woman on the chair, where she found a mug of what looked like jasmine tea waiting for her. A smile slipped from Ziva's lips. She rolled her eyes up to examine the opposite wall and recognized the same diplomas and commendations dedicated to _'Alicia J. Somers'_ she had spent so many hours staring at, all of them but two.

"I just unburied your files and discovered that the last time we saw each other was a little over eight years ago", Alicia stated simply, uncrossing her legs.

"Right after David was born", Ziva remembered, her eyes briefly losing focus.

Alicia nodded softly but remained silent, taking to studying her patient - a patient she had come to consider to be much more than a patient. "You are different, Ziva."

Ziva half-laughed, "Good different or bad different?"

"You seem content", she said, not really answering her question. "Are you feeling content?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

The Ziva of a few years ago would not have answered so readily. Rather, she would have lured her out with a wall of silence and struck back with a battery of lessons in psychological warfare. Not that her defenses had been broken entirely, and not that her early sessions with Alicia had been anything _but_ an obstinate staring match. Yet, even though it went against the very grain of Ziva's being, she had learned to talk, learned to share, learned to deal. If it hadn't been for therapy all those years ago, she might have burst with emotion, grief and anguish. To say the least, today's Ziva was different.

"You look like it."

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling, Tony?", she asked bluntly.<p>

"Oh, come on", he mock-whined, his eyes still roaming the scope of her office. "I bet you say that to all your clients."

A smirk briefly appeared on her face. "Cute."

"I thought so."

"So?"

"What?"

"Feelings? You?"

"I'm feeling pretty okay right now. Not exactly over-the-moon with this here session to tell you the truth, but otherwise…" He let the sentence linger, finally turning to face her.

"So, why are you here?", she asked, her face softly smiling.

Tony stared at her for a moment, then tilted his head to the side with a slight smile tugging at his lips. He took a breath. "Because a man I now consider the missing link in figuring out what the hell our case is about and how the hell I'm gonna stop from happening what I can feel in my gut is happening was shot in front of my wife and me yesterday morning."

Her eyes briefly dropped to the form resting in her lap. "You're not married."

Tony frowned, hearing Ian Johnston's echo of that assertion. "No, I'm not."

"You said your _wife_ was with you."

"My partner."

"You said wife."

"What's the difference?", he asked, his tone a little more aggravated than he would have liked it to be.

She smiled good-naturedly. "The reason you're here."

* * *

><p>"How old are they now?", Alicia inquired, enjoying the sparkle that immediately settled in Ziva's eyes. "I mean, David is eight, obviously-"<p>

"Turning nine in July, and Tali is five", Ziva added, briefly realizing that she had been a mother for nine years now. Most of the time she had spent in this very office the thought of ever having children after her ordeal had been so excruciatingly far-fetched she hadn't even dared speaking it out loud.

Alicia smiled. "Tell me about them."

Ziva's mouth opened easily, but no sound came at first. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the woman in front of her. Ever since, it had been about her feelings in here, Ziva's feelings. It was about how she managed to get through the days, what she felt going through the day, and what made her keep going through them. She couldn't explain why, but she immediately felt a guarding stonewall flare up around her. "They are fine- happy. Maybe a little confused because Tony and I are working today, but I'm sure Abby and McGee will find a way to occupy them."

Alicia remembered the names of Ziva's colleagues, and briefly referred her eyes to the five-word records of them she had scribbled down in her notes a few years before. She remembered how indebted Ziva had felt towards McGee, how she had felt incapable of ever repaying him for what he had done. She remembered the remorse Ziva had expressed towards Abby for throwing away the friendship Abby had so generously offered her. Alicia would have liked to linger on the subject of Abby and McGee a while longer - especially considering that the last time they had talked they hadn't yet been as much an item as they now seemed to be. However, that wasn't what they were here for today, Alicia realized that.

"Why do you feel you have to safeguard them?", she asked eventually.

"I am their mother", Ziva answered blankly. "Of course I have to safeguard them."

Alicia offered her a gentle smile. "I mean here. Why keep them hidden from me?"

Ziva raised her eyebrows. "I am not keeping them hidden."

"Then tell me about them."

Once again Ziva felt the question hit her and she felt her defenses deflect it almost instantly. "My children…", she started, taking a deep breath, "They mean _everything_ to me. I would sooner die than see them get hurt."

Alicia spotted the fierce glisten in Ziva's eyes. It was something she had well seen before, but only months into their therapy sessions. When Ziva had first stepped into her office over eleven years ago, that glisten in her eyes had been stamped out. Only after months and months of trying to deal with the mayhem of her emotions had that glisten slowly reappeared.

"You are a good mother, Ziva", Alicia declared suddenly, an odd matter-of-fact tone mixing in with her words.

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "You do not even know me as a mother."

Alicia stared at her, but her expression remained unchanged, no creases disrupting the gentleness of her look. "You did not fail your sister. You did not fail your unborn child. And you will certainly not fail Tali and David", she declared bluntly. She had long found forthright statements to be the most effective in Ziva's case. "Whatever it is you feel you have to protect them from, you will."

Ziva allowed Alicia's words to sink in, filtering them word for word. "What if it is me who is the real danger to them?", she retorted quietly.

"How would you ever endanger them?"

"My past, my history. Whatever it is that is haunting me."

Realization dawned in Alicia's eyes and she gave a small nod. "Are you alone, Ziva?"

"Of course not", she answered quickly. It seemed like one of the easiest things to answer, almost as easy as _'Do you love your children?'_ or _'Do you love Tony?'_ Yet, her answer had been so very different so long ago.

Alicia smiled. "So, you'll manage."

"I really hope so."

"Tell me, Ziva, do you think you deserve them? All of them?"

It seemed like an odd question to ask in any given setting, but in this room it was probably the most oft-asked question, implicitly or explicitly, whenever Ziva was sitting on that couch. The only thing Ziva had ever truly believed to deserve, _really_ deserve, was death in that torture chamber. Before that, nothing had seemed to be reimbursing some kind of value inscribed in her. A low breath escaped Ziva's lips as she thought about it. It was probably hard for anyone to think about oneself as deserving. She certainly felt as though she deserved her own past, maybe not all of it, but her deeds had somewhat been repaid. That is how she had come to think of it. Did she deserve all of them, though? Did she deserve her kids, Tony, and all the others?

Suddenly, a small smile flittered across Ziva's face. "Tony certainly seems to think I do."

Alicia chuckled. "Good man."

"The best." The smile settled firmly in her face.

"So…", Alicia drew out that syllable, crossing her legs again, "Tell me about Tony then."

Ziva half-laughed, "Where to start?"

* * *

><p>"She's the bravest person I've ever known, seen, heard about, read about", Tony said, leaning back into the cushions of the couch. "If you ask me, she's easily the bravest person in the world."<p>

She smiled, for the first time alerted to the intense greenness of his eyes. "Is it odd for you to feel that way about her?"

"What? You mean to think of her as the brave one in the family?", Tony tried to clarify, a sense of seriousness blending with the quip-like intonation. "You know what? I spent a long time chasing after the ones it was so easy to be brave for. And it probably took me even longer to realize that's really not what I wanted."

"No? What was that?"

Tony shrugged. "Ziva."

"And how's she different?"

"We don't have enough time to this session to get even halfway through the list", Tony retorted, unhooking the last button of his waistcoat and crossing his legs.

"Okay, so I'll guess", she countered simply, leaning forward. "You don't need to be brave for her."

Tony huffed slightly, shaking his head. "That's not it, doc."

She looked at him for some time, studying his expression. "It's more of a challenge, isn't it?", she tried at once, a small smile playing on her lips.

Tony soon mirrored her smile. He raised his arm, hand and index finger towards her and tapped the air in front of him. "I had you down for the shrewd part."

She chuckled. "Say I'm right?"

Tony squared his shoulders. "It's always been hard to show her that she doesn't have to be so damn brave all the time, but… I think we're getting there."

She briefly thought about issuing a word of caution, reminding him that he could choose not to answer or to deflect her questions. But she didn't. "Do you feel like Ziva is giving all of herself?"

Tony let her words resound in his head for a while, volleying different meanings and modulations around before settling on a quasi-answer. "No couple in the world, no matter how close, is giving it all at all times", he stated carefully.

"If Ziva and you are no different then, the answer is no. No?"

"Yes, it's no", Tony remarked. They allowed silence to settle between them, and even though Tony knew with the skill of a trained interrogator that silence was by far the best interrogator, he let it lure him into saying more. "I know there are a lot of things I still don't know about her, a lot of stuff she doesn't tell me, stuff I just don't understand. At the same time I know she's never been as open to anybody as she's been to me."

"You feel privileged."

"I feel thankful."

She nodded, her eyes briefly dropping to her lap. "And with all that Ziva had to deal with and still does… Is there enough room for you to give as well?"

Tony started to laugh softly. "After a year Ziva knew more about me than anyone ever did", he said. "If she had her way, dealing with me would be _all_ that we'd be doing. We spent years learning to open up to each other."

"Tough times?"

Tony scoffed. For a moment he felt like putting it all out there, all that had happened before Somalia, all that had happened during Somalia and all that had happened after Somalia. Somehow, though, he felt that would be too easy, too straightforward. "I think we owe a lot of it to David."

That made her forehead crease in bewilderment. "Your son?"

Tony nodded, the movement getting stronger the more he thought about it. "I think it took being scared shitless together to realize what it really meant to be together", he explicated slowly, his eyes growing distant. "When she told me she'd lost a baby, the first thing I did was calculate... Two years."

"Two years."

"She got pregnant with David only two years after her miscarriage", he continued softly. "I don't know if that's too long, or long enough, or if it can ever be long enough. I'm just glad we got pregnant when we did, that we had to jump in head-first. It did something to us."

* * *

><p>"I told him about the baby only two years ago", Ziva admitted quietly, her eyes sinking to the floor.<p>

Alicia's eyebrows rose. Her eyes flickered to a reminder at the bottom of the page on the clipboard in front of her, where she had noted down Ziva's resolution to tell Tony about the miscarriage as soon as she felt necessary after David's birth. "Not exactly the time frame we were discussing, was it?", she remarked.

Ziva chuckled softly. "No, not really."

"How'd he take it…two kids in?"

"I think… I think, within, he already knew about the raping. He had always known." He had been too cautious, too patient not to.

"And the miscarriage?"

"He must have suspected that too. That's how he is." Ziva smiled gently, her eyelids tugged firmly over her eyes. "At first, I don't think it fully registered with him. We already had two kids, so what if we couldn't have more? But after some time… Making love suddenly became harder and harder and the scars-" Ziva broke off, her eyes diverting.

Alicia gave her a little space, refraining from any follow-up questions for a while. Only when Ziva's eyes returned to her, she inquired, "You worked through it?"

Ziva nodded. "We did, yes. But it was more…_difficult_ than we both thought it would be after all that we had already worked through in the past."

"You know that it is as hard on him to accept your truths as it is for you to tell them."

Ziva started to nod again, but a sudden smile erupted on her face instead. "Sometimes it's almost comforting to watch him get so angry about what was done to me."

Alicia returned her smile, even if hers was a bit crooked. Her forehead creased with a small frown. "After all, it's about the small comforts."

Ziva shook her head somewhat. "He is the first one who has ever been angry for me."

* * *

><p>"Somalia."<p>

"Country in the Horn of Africa", Tony responded quickly, his head jolting slightly to the side. "Are we doing Freudian associations now?"

She half-laughed, her expression remaining still. "I'm sure it's a big part of your life, no matter what you say now."

"In the immortal words of Eli David", he proclaimed, toning his voice down at least two notches, "It's always gonna be there."

He looked at her, waiting for any kind of reaction, but she merely gazed at him, unmoving.

"You know what? I've already spilled my guts here anyway, so I'll say it out loud: If it weren't for Somalia, I would have never had her", he blurted out in one hasty breath. "Don't get me wrong, because if I could make it un-happen, I would. In a heartbeat. Even if that meant not being with her."

"So, what is it then?"

"It is…", he started, his eyes briefly drifting off, "It's when I realized I couldn't be without her. It's when she lost the act of Super-Mossad-Agent and had to be herself. It's that self that I fell in love with. It's when she realized that she could be more than just a role forced upon her that she could fall in love with _me_."

* * *

><p>"Sometimes I am still struggling", Ziva admitted, her eyebrows furrowing. "I mean, how much can you really make separate the parts of yourself? An old self and a new self?"<p>

"Ziva, you've always _been_ yourself", Alicia cautioned, leaning forward.

"Yes, but so different", she insisted. "Sometimes I feel like I have taken on so many new roles, the role of a wife, the role of a mother, the role of a friend. I have changed and added and shed so many roles all my life that sometimes it seems I must have lost myself along the way."

"Do you really think you have lost yourself?", Alicia probed cautiously, "Or found yourself?"

Ziva looked at her, her eyes narrowing. "Both, I think."

Alicia smiled slightly upon Ziva's questioning gaze. "I don't actually think we're designed to stay the same."

"For a long time in my life I do not believe I would have agreed with you."

"But now you do?"

"Now", Ziva stressed that syllable, letting it roll off her tongue, "I hope I have arrived."

* * *

><p>"I'm trying to be the bigger man here, you know", Tony declared.<p>

"Bigger how?"

Tony scrutinized her way of articulating the word that had just jumped from his own lips and his forehead started to crease with wrinkles. "Maybe I phrased that wrong."

She nodded encouragingly. "Phrase it right then."

"_Mishbacha_", he said suddenly, trying to mimic Ziva's pronunciation. "You know that word?"

"Family."

He nodded. "Other wives want jewelry, or a bigger house, bigger car, nicer dishes, whatever it is. But Ziva's not like that. She doesn't need or want any of that. Maybe I'm lucky that way or maybe it's harder for us, I don't know", Tony elaborated quickly, inching forward on the couch as his voice grew ever more serious. "But what I can give my wife so she'll be happy is _trust_. Trust me that I'll shoulder some of the load. Trust me that I won't leave her. Trust me that I won't betray her trust."

"You know there's nothing more important in Ziva's world", she remarked, growing ever more impressed by how far the pair had come and yet how far they still had to go.

"I know that. It's the deal."

"The deal?"

"I'll be, she'll trust."

Tony and Ziva in a nutshell. It was almost too simple not to make a note of in her records. Still, it seemed like they were finally coming to the point. "Why do you think you're here, Tony?", she asked bluntly.

Tony's eyebrows rose. "Right now I don't know what I'm up against. And it scares me."

* * *

><p>"He took over a team in Spain a few months after Tali was born."<p>

Alicia looked at her closely, trying to decipher the expression on Ziva's face. She knew Ziva didn't let go easily. "You supported him."

"I did", Ziva nodded assuredly. "I knew he was holding back here, hiding behind his clown face. Tony needed that challenge, he needed Spain to be happy." Ziva's eyes wandered towards the window, watching the outside world for a moment. "I want him to be happy", she added plainly.

Alicia nodded, watching Ziva until the other woman had turned back towards her. "I'm guessing it wasn't easy to be alone with two small kids."

Ziva laughed softly. "Far from easy", she remarked lightly. "I cannot count the times that I wished Tony was there. But not so much because I needed help with the kids. Abby and Tim and Gibbs, even Ducky, they helped me so much." A smile flickered across Ziva's face. "But I knew the kids missed him and he is _such_ an amazing father to them. And for two years they missed out on him and he missed out on them."

"But he's back now?"

"Yes, he is." Ziva smiled. "And sometimes it feels like he keeps trying to make up for the time he missed."

Alicia's eyebrows rose slightly. "Does he have to?"

Ziva let out a small sigh. "It is part of their life now. It is what happened, what he did. What _we_ did. I'd rather he spent more time being the father that he is than the father he thinks he has to be. It is more than enough."

"Why do you think that is?", Alicia pried gently, sensing more to the answer than what she had received thus far.

Ziva shrugged, her eyes briefly diverting to the table. She took the mug and cradled it in her hand for a moment, watching the small waves break against its china rim. "I think he is trying to be a father to them as much as he is trying to be a father to himself, the father he never had." Silence lingered for a moment as Ziva took a sip. She smacked her lips. "It's what he does. Always trying so hard."

"You both are."

Ziva nodded. "I guess so."

"What made him come back?", Alicia inquired, sincerely curious.

Ziva settled the mug in her lap, feeling the warmth radiating off it. "Realizing that life just never stands still."

* * *

><p>"Ziva almost died in that accident", Tony explained, his eyes briefly dropping to the floor. "All of us almost did. We were damn lucky."<p>

"What about luck?"

"It was crazy", Tony continued as if he hadn't really heard the question. "That just doesn't happen. But it does, and it happened to us. Which doesn't make it any less crazy, just more- You know…" Suddenly Tony laughed, a slow laugh. "I can't help but think of _Final Destination_ when I think about it... Death doesn't take no for an answer."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on him even as they flashed around the room. "How do you stand on death?"

"I guess, one day I won't be _standing_ on it anymore", he retorted, a small grin crossing his face.

* * *

><p>"It is funny. There was a time in my life when I was not afraid of death. There was a time when I <em>prayed<em> for death. But since then…", Ziva said, running the bottom of the mug slightly up and down the fabric of her jeans in her lap. "I have allowed myself to come to fear it once more."

"What is it that scares you about death?"

"That I will have to leave all of this."

Alicia smiled. "What is _this_?"

"My life, my friends. Tony." A small smile sprinted across Ziva's face. "My children."

* * *

><p>"I don't think we could have stopped Leahy from getting shot", Tony asserted, straightening up against the back of the couch. "I went over our files three times now and there was nothing to suggest he'd be a target for <em>anything<em>."

"What is it then?"

Tony's gaze lingered on her mouth, on the words she had just spoken, the question she had just posed. Absently, his fingers dug into the fabric of the cushion. "It's about chances. And running out of them."

* * *

><p>"We were given so many new starts, so many...do-overs", Ziva started slowly. "It is <em>'do-over'<em>, yes?"

Alicia smiled gently, well accustomed to Ziva's calamities with the English language. "Yes, it is."

"We thought all that we were dealing with was us, _our_ family", Ziva elaborated. "But two years ago we were reminded that there can be much more to it. And now I cannot shake the feeling that this is one of these times again."

Alicia nodded. "Mr. Leahy's death?"

Ziva's expression remained serene. "People get shot and people die. It seems cold, but it is part of our job. We try to stop it when we can, and sometimes we cannot."

"Yet here you are…"

"His death seems so…random, so unwarranted", Ziva mused with a hint of disgust in her voice. "It is hard enough to cope when there is a reason to a death. But it gets so much harder when there is none."

* * *

><p>"I'm wondering if we all have some sort of quota for close calls", Tony said, a contemplative smile spreading on his face.<p>

She tilted her head to the side. "Suppose there is. Would you wanna know your tally?"

Tony jolted his head to the side. "Not really."

* * *

><p>"What do you want for your kids, Ziva?", Alicia inquired, genuinely curious as to her answer.<p>

Ziva smiled softly. "What all mothers want, I think."

"Happiness, success, independence", Alicia listed, not yet satisfied with Ziva's response. "But what is it that you _want_ for them more than anything? Something that conditions all of the above?"

Ziva pondered the question for a moment, before she placed the empty mug back on the table. "I want them to be able to choose."

* * *

><p>Ziva was perched on a small concrete wall right outside their building in the Navy Yard, enjoying the tickles of sun on her face with her eyes closed. She had been silently sitting there for a while, not far from where she had thanked McGee for the rescue mission many years before. She wasn't thinking, just relishing the absence of the usual buzz around here, around her. It wasn't until a pair of lips softly captured hers that she opened her eyes to find Tony standing in front of her.<p>

"Were you watching me?", she asked when he drew back, a small grin adorning his face.

He shook his head. "Couldn't contain myself."

A smile settled on her face as she got up. She studied his face, but refrained from asking him how it went. That wasn't a question worth asking. Instead, she placed a hand on the side of his face. "You look tired."

"I feel emotionally spent", he retorted.

"Let's get the kids and go home then."

"Gladly", he answered. "But there's something we gotta do first."

Ziva had only a vague idea about what he was talking about when they got into the car and Tony started meandering through the quiet lull of Sunday's Washington. When they left the city, her vague idea morphed into a strong inclination, and when Tony stopped the car and got out she was pretty sure where they were. Taking her hand in his, they walked up a narrow pathway to a medium-sized one-family house. Ziva recognized the brand of the bike leaning against a tree trunk on the front lawn, the same one as Tali's. She smiled. After only two knocks, a woman with short blonde-brownish hair opened the door.

"Yes?", she greeted, folding her arms in front of her body.

"Laura Philips?"

"That's me."

Tony showed her his badge and ID. "We are Agents DiNozzo and David, NCIS."

A hint of realization dawned on her face, then she nodded and stepped aside. "Come in."

She led them through the small foyer and into the adjacent living room. All the while they kept passing the odd toy or toy-like disposal, reminding them heavily of their own kids' routine of leaving their stuff lying around for everybody's enjoyment. Tony and Ziva settled on the couch next to each other, while she opted for the ottoman across from them.

"It's okay that I'm surprised you came, right?", she asked quickly, folding her hands in her lap.

Ziva smiled briefly. "Yes, it is."

"I hope you don't mind we did?"

She nodded quickly. "No, it's alright- I mean, I'm glad."

"Your brother's things are still evidence in an ongoing investigation", Tony explained, finding it easier to start with the bare necessities. "But we'll see to it that they're released as soon as possible."

"It's okay", she cautioned, her voice quieting. "Dustin and I, we weren't exactly close. We- We just lost sight of one another at some point. I don't know when."

They both nodded, casting each other a quick look. "Mrs. Philips-"

"Laura."

"Laura", Ziva started, "We want to express our sincere sympathies with your brother's death and we want you to know that we will try our best to find who did this."

"Thank you. I really appreciate you coming here", Laura declared sincerely. Suddenly, a small laugh escaped her lips. "It's almost funny, you know. He who- He was always so careful, so neat, almost obsessive. For him to die like this, it seems so bizarre, you know?"

"Believe me, we know", Tony remarked slowly.

Laura affirmed his statement with Ziva's soft nod. She didn't allow silence to settle for too long, though. "So how come you're colleagues _and_ a couple?", she blurted out.

Ziva and Tony shared a brief look, recognizing the frowns on each other's face that they each refrained from showing. "Is it that obvious?", Tony retorted.

"It's in the looks you share", she surmised. When she noticed their shared bewilderment, however, she laughed out loud. "I watched you coming up to the house", she admitted. They both smiled, but did not answer the question either. Sincerely curious, Laura tried again. "So, what came first?"

Ziva's eyes briefly flickered towards Tony and dropped to his right hand that was resting on his thigh only inches from hers. "First colleagues, then couple."

"Love at first sight then?"

Tony couldn't help a chuckle escaping his throat. "More like a _long_…daunting gaze, it was."

"You got kids?"

"Two", Ziva answered quickly, a smile appearing on her face.

"Me, a daughter", Laura said. "Seven years and not a day younger."

It took Ziva a moment to recognize the expectant glisten in Laura's eyes. She straightened up. "Almost nine and five."

"Good ages."

"Sure are", Tony retorted, even though he wasn't sure what exactly qualified as 'good ages'.

"My husband and I were love at first sight", Laura asserted slowly and suddenly, her smile persisting. "He died three years ago."

Ziva's mouth gaped for a moment. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. That's not what I-", Laura put in quickly, throwing out her arms as if she was retrieving her own words from somewhere in the air. "What I meant was that it's…it's easier if there is someone left, you know. Even if it's not easier for the ones who are left behind, but it's easier for the ones who left. They can look down and say, you know, _'I mattered',_ without having to look far."

Tony's and Ziva's eyes met in their joint nods. Somehow they both felt they had to look, close.

"I hope Dustin knows he can look here if he's got nowhere else to look", she added quietly, the edges of her mouth slipping upwards again. "You gotta hang on to the one's you can look at."

* * *

><p>Please, do<strong> tell me what you think<strong> - always appreciating _all_ your comments. **Next chapter**: a little something from the past, April 2016


	19. Mementos of Life

**Chap 19 Intermezzo - Part 3  
><strong>_or: Mementos of Life_

**April 2016**

Tali's eyes flew up and fixated her mother's familiar outlines all of Ziva's way from the doorway to the crib. At just about five months old Tali had given them already enough evidence that regarding her sleeping pattern she was nothing like her brother. Then again, Ziva couldn't shake the feeling that Tali's regular, if short-lived wailing was merely a ploy to get the attention she knew she would receive. She sure was a precious attention-seeker. At the end of the day - and the morning, for that matter - their little girl left them with a much more comfortable grand total in hours slept, so who were they to complain? Ziva had to admit that made for a much less unsettled Tony as well.

However, looking into her baby girl's big brown eyes, all that went away. Once again Ziva felt mesmerized by her own content just staring at her. But while Ziva might have been perfectly content only watching her daughter, Tali had different plans. When she grew impatient with the lack of movement on her mother's part, she threw her arms out into Ziva's direction, punctuating her actions with agitated yelps of _'Ma'_. That momentous combination of a consonant and a vowel that tugged at Ziva's heart every time she heard it - and she was hearing it more and more often now.

It finally persuaded her to give in to her daughter's all too familiar impatience. She leaned over and gently picked her up, settling the little girl sideways against her shoulder. It was the only position Ziva knew Tali would go for, too fascinated was the five-month-old by the play of expressions on familiar faces.

"You cannot be hungry. I just fed you, my darling", Ziva asserted softly, starting to rock her. Tali's look was intent, almost as if she was trying to discern the exact meaning of the sounds leaving her mother's lips. But the only answer Ziva received was a wide grin as Tali reached up to touch her face.

"All you wanted was a cuddle at 2 a.m., yes?" Ziva smiled. A small giggle slipped from the little girl's lips. Startling herself with the sound, Tali turned her face further into her mother's shoulder. Ziva chuckled, tilting her head to place a kiss on her daughter's cheek.

Softly humming the tune of her most cherished Hebrew lullaby, Ziva went to the other side of the room and took a seat in the rocking chair by the window. The moon was shedding a little bit of leftover light on the windowsill. She arranged Tali in her lap, so that their eyes locked. Ziva knew right well that Tali never went back to sleep in the rocking chair. She just didn't. David had been easier in that respect. Tali, however, she could shower with lullabies and stories and sweet nothingness for hours on end and the little girl would lie there, contently, just listening to her mother's voice. No, Tali needed them to wander the apartment, up and down, in order to go back to sleep. By then David would have already relocated to his parents' bedroom, hogging the absent parent's side of the bed.

"Isn't it my turn?" Tony's voice emerged from the darkness of the hallway as he quietly crept along the paneling, taking a stand in front of the mother-daughter-pair.

"I heard her fussing and you looked so peaceful…", Ziva returned quietly, her eyes not leaving her daughter's.

Tony took another moment to observe his daughter, whose big brown orbs had shifted to scrutinizing the familiar voice and form of her daddy. He squatted down, one hand clasping Ziva's, the other smoothing back some of Tali's light brown locks. When the little girl reached for his hand he allowed her to grab his finger, lead it to her mouth and start gnawing on it - or at least trying to do so for lack of any teeth.

"Come May this will be it… A one-woman-show", Tony observed, looking up at his life partner.

"I know", Ziva stated softly, but there was no trace of the heaviness a small part of him seemed to be expecting.

"You sure-"

"Tony, we have been over this. And we agreed. No moving for them…or me. It is enough with the nomad life", she asserted, squeezing his hand emphatically.

Tony nodded and caressed Tali's cheek after the little girl had eventually abandoned his finger, finding new interest in the beads on her mother's gown. "And me?"

Ziva smiled knowingly. "You do what you think you have to do, my love." She let go of his hand and lifted hers to touch the side of his face, their eyes meeting. Tali, from the position in her mother's arms, followed her parents' exchange with obvious fascination, finding pure delight in the sound of their voices and expressing that with the odd gurgle and smile.

After a while Tony's forehead creased with curious wrinkles. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you let me go?"

Ziva was a little taken aback by the sudden question. "Why do you worry?"

"Isn't this like the biggest Eli-flashback you'd ever get?" Tony knew he had phrased that question rather bluntly, but it had been nagging at the back of his mind for a while and now seemed as good a time as any to just get it out there.

"But I trust you, Tony", Ziva declared easily, her eyes returning to her daughter and gently removing the beads from Tali's grasp and mouth.

"What? You never once trusted your father?"

"Of course I did", she confirmed quietly. Tony was just about to answer, when Ziva added, "But I know that you will never disappoint my trust. There is no one more deserving of it than you, Tony."

"Gibbs?"

Ziva chuckled slightly. "Not _more_."

The edges of Tony's mouth stretched upward. That Ziva had dire trust-issues was no secret, to no one. And because he knew that and because he had seen her get hurt so many times by trusting and being disappointed, he would have never dreamt of inflicting that kind of pain upon her. He leaned up and planted a kiss on her lips, keeping a tight hold on her hand. Tali, watching them, showered their moment of intimacy with a hail of giggles.

"You think that's funny, princess?", Tony faux-growled, a huge grin playing on his face. He jumped in and out of a scowl, all the while tickling his daughter beneath a storm of giggles from the little girl. He eventually scooped her up into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

Ziva watched father and daughter with a knowing smile. She stroked the back of Tali's head as the little girl quieted down. "I'll take her on the round", Tony offered, standing up and rearranging Tali in his arms. The little girl easily settled into her father's embrace. "You get some sleep. Already got yourself some company anyway."

"Thank you."

Tony winked at her. "Last kiss to mommy", Tony commented sweetly, leaning down to catch Ziva's lips himself before briefly repositioning Tali so that Ziva could press a small kiss to the little girl's locks. "Off we go, princess."

Ziva looked after them as they vanished in the darkness of the hallway on their track downstairs. She sighed. "And I trust you to know when you need to come back", she whispered into nothingness before getting up and joining her son in the land of slumber.

* * *

><p><em>Short'n'sweet, as they call it. Life has been catching up with me lately, but I will try to put the next chapter up within a reasonable timeframe. Thanks for sticking with this, and tell me what you think! And about that <em>**_next c_**_**hapter:** In case you've been missing someone thus far - they're back!_


	20. Past Forward

_Dear all, new readers and old readers,_

_It has been a while since my last update...a little over a year ago, so I'm not kidding. Life. You know it.  
>I don't know exactly what got me reading my notes again, but here it is: a new chapter.<br>I realize that the story is procedural and most of you who now got an alert will have forgotten all about it already, but I think this chapter is actually a good place to get back into it - and if not, I'm hoping to include a short in-story summary in the next chapter.  
>So, yes, I'm actually planning to continue, because I want to at least get to some kind of conclusion to the build-up in this story. Firstly, because that's about as far as my notes from way, way back go; and secondly, because I think you deserve to know where this story was headed.<em>

_Thank you for reading._

_Coginom_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 20 Past Forward<strong>

**Monday, March 29****th**** 2021**

When Tony stepped into the lab that morning, his footsteps drowning out the echo of the familiar _'ding'_ of the elevator, Abby whirled around immediately with a satisfied grin on her face. "You sent a courier with my morning CafPow fix", she called out reverently, her arms flying up beside her face as if on the verge of hugging him.

A soft smile settled on Tony's face. "I had an early meeting in MTAC today and I knew you'd be in processing the stuff on Leahy's shooting, so…"

She finally took two steps towards him and engulfed him in a hug. "Thank you", she said, holding on for a while before drawing back. She looked at him, her face set in utter seriousness. "And I really mean that. Thank you. Do I tell you that enough?"

"Probably", Tony quipped, offering her a crooked grin.

She gently patted his shoulder. "Really, thank you."

There was a comment on the tip of his tongue, but he blinked it back. There was something utterly sincere in Abby's eyes, not the customary glint of playfulness, and he wanted to mind that. "That the mock-up of Leahy's shooting?", he asked, turning their attention to the simulation on Abby's computer behind them.

Abby kept her gaze on him for another minute, then spun around and took her usual place. "Yep."

Her fingers glided along her keyboard and the screen zoomed in and slowly rotated the image, previously fixed on the expressionless face of the victim stand-in, around its body and then followed a red line from the side of its head to the empty multistory building framing the parking lot where Leahy had been shot the day before.

"Factoring in the angle, at which the bullet penetrated Leahy's skull, the location data Tim took and the blood spatter on your clothes, I placed the shooter on the fifth floor of this building", Abby narrated, zooming back out to emphasize the position of the building in relation to where they had been standing. "Which is great, 'cause Metro found nothing where they suspected the shooter, but _their_ preliminary measurements were half a story off."

Tony nodded, a small appreciative smile flittering across his face as he replayed the events in his head. Ziva and he had both had either their back or their side turned towards the building. Neither of them had been prepared to be scouting for sniper nests right outside Washington DC.

"I gave Ziva and Tim the address two hours ago", Abby continued, her forehead creasing with soft wrinkles. "They should be RTB by now."

Tony nodded. "They are. McFinicky is still busy filing the field report and indexing the evidence. And Ziva just left to give her speech at David's school."

"Profession Day", Abby surmised ominously. "Sounds totally _not_ like Ziva's thing."

Tony half-laughed. "It's not. But it's for David, so she'll manage."

Abby still looked a bit unsure. "You don't think-"

Tony cocked an eyebrow, answering definitely, "I don't think."

Abby knew when to stop probing and returned to the evidence, leading him to the evidence table in the middle of the room. She held up an empty jar and deftly wiggled it in front of Tony's face, causing him to frown. "So, obviously, I'm still waiting to tell you anything on the bullet."

"I figured as much."

"But I _can_ tell you something about the stuff Leahy collected on the people he thought were out to kill him, which… They _really_ were."

She offered him a supportive smile and showed him the envelope he had first watched Dustin Leahy bring along to their meeting, then watched fall from his lifeless hand only to land next to his corpse, and eventually bagged for further processing. Taking a look inside, he found photos and discs. "And?"

Abby bit her lip. "Nothing-"

"Abby, come on-"

"Really. The photos show some presumed ransacking, clothes hanging out of drawers, books lying on their shelves, pictures askew. But it's nothing really to go on-" Tony opened his mouth to say something, but Abby shushed him with a quick jolt of her hand. "Yes, I did give them a good hard look and I looked for details that might help us, but…nothing. I'm sorry."

Tony nodded anyway. "And the discs?"

"Audio recordings of prank calls", Abby explained, her expression not changing. "A lot of breathing and crackling. Nothing you wouldn't also get in the first half-hour of a C-class horror flick."

He raised his eyebrows. "So, I can go?"

Abby shook her head, the smile finally returning to her face. "You ordered a full processing of Leahy's house, remember?"

Tony laughed softly. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, they found pieces of wall or paint where there shouldn't be any pieces of wall or paint", Abby declared, the giddiness of evidence-finding sifting through her voice again. She indicated the aforementioned pieces in a jar on the other end of the table. "It's gypsum-based material."

Tony waited for a moment, enjoying Abby's bright expression but growing impatient. "So, I can go _now_?"

"Nope", Abby chimed, grabbing his arm and tugging him back to her computers. "Abby's Rule number three: Always leave on a high note."

"Well, hit it then."

Abby grinned, starting to tap into her keyboard once more. "Major Mass Spec and I processed the pieces and we found traces…of _mold_."

Alerted by the reverent tone in her voice, Tony's face contorted in a bit of future pain. "You gonna get love-sick with mold again?"

Abby cocked her head to the side. "My mold turn-on is reserved exclusively for McGee nowadays."

Tony held up his hand, not needing to hear more. "From what I picked up so far, mold's really hard to specify, right?", he inquired, keen on going back to the evidence again.

She actually looked a little proud as she pulled up the picture of the mold and zoomed in on the micro-specifics. "I think it might be Sachybotrys, filamentous fungi that reproduce asexually."

"Now, there's the stuff", Tony smiled.

"But it will take some time till I have anything more specific."

"You know where to find me."

Tony was just about to leave when he almost bumped into McGee who in turn was apparently just on his way in, an evidence jar with a shell casing in his hand. "Shooter positioned himself on a small ledge on the fifth floor", he announced at once. "Ziva says the adjoining buildings curbed tangential winds. He had a great shot."

"Not so great from where I was standing", Tony growled, taking a few steps back into the room.

"And we found this", McGee tapped the evidence jar, "lodged in a crack between doorframe and support beam."

"He didn't police his brass?"

McGee shook his head. "The casing got jammed. We had to use some real force to get it out. Maybe he was in a hurry to flee the scene?"

Tony's forehead set in deep wrinkles, his mind scrolling through the time frame of the shooting and the appearance of Metro PD officers on the scene. "He would have had enough time to shoot me and Ziva too", he mused, his voice low. "There was nothing to take cover behind and enough time to do it."

"So, it was only about Leahy?", McGee concluded.

"Yep, and we have no idea why."

* * *

><p>Tony had soon left <em>Labby Land<em> after noticing the pointed looks Abby and McGee were giving each behind each other's back. Leahy's shooting and the subsequent hubbub had distracted his usually impeccable sense for knowing when something was messing with someone in his family. He remembered Ziva's and his concern with their friends' behavior when they had collected Liora that fateful Saturday morning. He had left the lab to allow them some privacy and to deal with whatever it was that needed to be dealt with. With Ziva gone for lunch he had opted to skip it altogether anyway. Instead he had preponed the sit-rep with Director Vance, in the course of doing so also getting in his and Ziva's note from Dr. Somers regarding their dutiful completion of the mandatory psych eval. Despite all this, however, he made a note to make up for his lack of attention to what appeared to be serious problems on the McGees' side that same evening.

He was sauntering down the last few stairs leading into the squadroom, when all pondering was cast aside in favor of welcoming David and Ziva who were just exiting the elevator. A smile sprang to his face as he watched their son talking excitedly up at Ziva who in turn sported the most content smile he had seen on her face in two days.

Over six years ago, when Tony had held Ziva's hand and together they had stared at the positive pregnancy test, they hadn't exactly planned for another child. Sure, looking at their little boy, they had both occasionally played with the thought of it, but they had never actually talked about it in the _sit-down-and _way. Ziva's surprise-pregnancy had been followed up by even more talk, though. And one thing they had agreed on, most definitely, had been to treat their children the same, try not to favor, try to apply the same rules and accolades. As far as they could say they had kept to that agreement.

The same could be said for the kids themselves. They weren't outright favoring one or the other parent, but naturally there was a certain bias in different aspects of their life. As such, for instance, Tali couldn't deny the status of a real _'daddy's girl'_ and Tony might have fended off the odd remark to that effect - but never without a knowing smile. That didn't mean that she loved her mommy any less, but seeing as father and daughter were so much alike there was simply a lot of understanding where otherwise explanation would have been needed. On the other side of the family portrait David worshipped his dad, but Ziva was kind of like his personal hero. The little boy reminded Ziva so much of her late sister, but with so much of herself thrown into the mix of his personality there was a connection between mother and son that went a little deeper than any other.

Tony checked his watch. It was a tad early for David to be finished with school already. "Hey there!", he greeted, meeting them at the entrance to the bullpen. "How was your show'n'tell?"

Ziva rolled her eyes at his semi-apprehensive, semi-smirking intonation. "It was good", she assessed simply.

David, on the other hand, seemed sincerely excited as he lodged himself right between them. "Did you know that mom can speak _nine_ languages?"

"I cannot speak all of them equally well, David", Ziva cautioned.

Tony smiled. "Nine? I always thought there were more…"

She could see the mischievous edge his smile had gained. "Depends on who is listening…and what I am talking about", Ziva retorted quietly, putting on a small seductive smile. Their eyes remained linked for a second in a knowing gaze, a speck of intimacy in their exchange.

David, of course, was oblivious to the overtones. "We even got to go home early today."

"There was a conference", Ziva added explanatorily.

"You back already?", McGee called over, returning from the lab and shooting David a big smile of welcome. He was always delighted to see his nephew. He loved both Tali and David, but having been such a big part of David's life during Tony's days in Rota, there was a lingering connection.

"Hey Uncle Tim, were you in the Army too?" The eight-year-old quickly stepped up to his uncle, seizing him with an expectant gaze.

Meanwhile Tony and Ziva hung back. "So, it went well, huh?", Tony deduced, leaning in closer to his partner.

Ziva smiled a half-smile, her eyes resting on her son as he talked away energetically while McGee was trying to issue a G-rated explanation as to the different systems of national defense in the US and Israel. Tony followed her gaze and his smile, if possible, became even bigger. "Looks like we gotta start finding you a superhero costume."

She finally waved him off. Nonetheless, she couldn't deny the feeling of pride very close to her heart upon her son's excitement, a feeling of pride that had settled and stubbornly remained right there for the best part of the last few hours. "He seems pleased", she stated quietly.

"And you?"

"_I_…did not like how much I evaded the truth today." She shot her partner in life and work a fleeting, knowing glance.

"Looks like it paid off, though." He took another half-step towards her, the fingers of his left hand enclosing hers and squeezing them in a short, simple gesture. The edges of her mouth twitched upwards before he re-established the accustomed work-distance between them.

Their eyes remained on David and McGee for some time until suddenly Tony's eyes glazed over. He slightly lifted his chin, giving the office air around them two, three, four good sniffs. "Wait", he exclaimed, drawing all three pairs of eyes towards him, "Gibbs is here."

"Uncle Gibbs is back?", David called out eagerly, instantly starting to turn into every direction a couple of times in the hope to catch a glimpse of his grandpa/uncle/uber-boss.

Gibbs himself, Ducky too, and on two separate occasions his parents had all explained to Tali and him why the two older men had embarked on their trip. David, personally, thought that he had sufficiently grasped the concept of retirement. Basically, it meant that his dad was now the big boss. That was kind of awesome. However, it had also meant he hadn't seen Gibbs and Ducky for quite some time now. And that had been nowhere near awesome. He missed both of them, Gibbs particularly. Sure, when his dad had returned he hadn't been spending as much time with his Uncle Gibbs as he had before, but they had still gone to dinner at his place every week, and Tali and he had had sleepovers there, and sometimes he had even helped Gibbs on his latest boat all by himself. If they were back now, though, all the better. Maybe they could start on another boat now. Or on a tree house. A tree house would be really nice.

"Here", Tony declared, picking up a Styrofoam cup from his desk. "That's not mine. I stole a mug from Cynthia today." He took a good long sniff, painting equal looks of disgust on Ziva's and McGee's face. "Empty, and disastrously strong." He put the cup back down with a muffled _clonk_, stepped away from his desk and sniffed again. "The faint odor of Chanel No. 51 and _'Don't mess with me'_."

"What the-", was all McGee could utter as they kept watching Tony take yet another two steps to the side and kneel down on the floor paneling with a look of intense concentration.

Ziva wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to laugh out loud or yank her partner back upright. Right now she was debating with herself if Tony was having one of his wackier days or if he was simply putting on a show to entertain their son. She didn't have much more time for internal debate, however, as Tony shot back up into a standing position.

"A pin", Tony exclaimed triumphantly, eyeing the inch-long item with eyebrows knitted together. "A pin used to keep pre-tied bow ties in place. Right on the way to the one elevator that leads down to autopsy."

"Uncle Ducky's back too?", David asked with equal excitement as before, looking up at his mother with hopeful eyes. Ziva could do nothing but shrug her shoulders.

"That's just a pin, Tony. From some folder, or piece of clothing, or mail cart that make their way through here every day", McGee reasoned, yet unable to keep the small smile off his face.

Tony was having none of it anyway. "Follow me", he proclaimed simply, leading the way to the elevator.

Ziva and McGee gave each other matching looks of confusion, but neither found the heart nor the logic to start arguing with Tony on this right now. And besides that, David was certainly enjoying himself. The little boy had already trotted after his Sherlock-y father as both remaining agents simultaneously decided to just roll with it.

Right before the elevator doors opened, Tony turned back towards Ziva ever so slightly, and winked at her - ever so slightly. "See that?", Tony called out, his outstretched arm indicating the rim of a hat distinctly visible beyond the thick double doors leading into the autopsy room.

Tony gave each of them a look of absolute triumph before leading their way through those doors to find - _surprise of surprises!_ - Gibbs lying on the second stretcher to the right, his eyes closed to their incoming.

"Ah, I see we have been made", Ducky announced himself with a big smile, coming in from the adjacent room with Palmer by his side.

"Uncle Ducky!", David called out, already rushing over to give him a hug.

Ziva couldn't help but mimic her son's actions, going over to deliver her welcoming hug with less force than her eight-year-old son, but her smile might have just been surpassing David's. She held onto Ducky for quite some time and the older man responded with equal delight. When they drew back, Ziva kept her hands on his arms, willing him to register the full radiance of her smile. Ducky had always had the most calming presence on her. And she was, to say the least, feeling conflicted right now, with their case and its twists and turns; feeling apprehensive. For what it's worth, she felt relieved to have him back. And Ducky could see right through her smile. He gently patted her arm before moving to receive hugs and handshakes from Tony and McGee.

Meanwhile, David had stepped over to the stretcher his Uncle Gibbs was lying on, gently inching closer in an attempt to examine his status. Suddenly, Gibbs groaned and his eyes shot open. David jumped back momentarily, causing the other adults to chuckle.

"No need to jump, buddy", Gibbs croaked and ran a hand down his face. A smile settled on his features. "C'mere and give your old Uncle Gibbs a hug." He opened his arms and David gladly stepped into his embrace. Ziva also went up to him as the older agent got up. He gave her one of his sincere crooked smiles, kissed her on the forehead and engulfed her in a hug.

As he moved on to welcome McGee and Tony, the latter took a good long look at the homecoming men. Ducky appeared sincerely rested, a little rounder in the face than before they had left, his hair was neatly in place and his clothes seemed shiny and new. Gibbs, on the other hand, seemed to be running on quite the lack of sleep, sporting a gruff look and wearing a long-sleeved hoody over his shirt. "Red eye?", Tony quipped and took an observant, and careful, step back from his former boss.

"Jethro maybe, but I am far too old for shenanigans like that", Ducky explained, his voice sounding as chipper as ever. Had he been a bit morose before their semi-joint trip, that appeared all gone now. "I arrived two days ago."

"And you didn't call?", Ziva retorted quickly.

Ducky looked on innocently. "Dr. Plamer here knew."

Their eyes wandered over to jointly glare at the man in question, and Palmer gazed back at them sheepishly. "Sorry guys, with all that's happened and a colicky baby, I-"

"It's okay, Jimmy. Don't get your scrubs in a twist", Tony said with a good-natured pat on the back, which Jimmy received a bit timidly.

"Did you really see grizzly bears?", David asked suddenly, his eyes trained on his Uncle Gibbs. "'Cause I kept all your cards and there was a grizzly bear on one of them like- like seven feet tall and dad said you probably ate that one for dinner."

Gibbs frowned at Tony for a second, then turned his attention back to the little boy by his side. "Nah, didn't kill one. But I saw one alright."

"Really? Can you-"

"David", Ziva cut in softly, putting a hand on her son's shoulder. "How about we let your Uncle Gibbs get some rest for a bit and then I am sure he will tell you all about his trip."

David turned from his mother to Gibbs for reassurance. Upon the older man's nod, David relented. "Okay."

"I guess, I'll read you in tomorrow then", Tony added, slinging an arm around Ziva's waist and drawing her into him. He didn't see why he shouldn't. There was no one around but family.

Gibbs gave him a crooked smile. "Good thinking, DiNozzo."

* * *

><p>"Temporary reinstatement, huh?", Vance repeated Gibbs' words, a smirk dropping from his lips. He leaned back in his chair, entwining his fingers in front of him.<p>

"Or something like that", Gibbs mumbled, clearing his throat. He shifted his weight to his left foot, casting a quick glance out of the bay window behind Vance's desk. A scenery he had not seen in quite a while.

Vance seemed deep in thought for a moment, scanning Gibbs' posture. "How 'bout we treat you as an invaluable accessory with limited access? How's that sound?", he asked eventually, already opening one of the drawers on the right side of his desk.

Gibbs threw his head back slightly in a faint nod.

"After all…", the director drew out the words while fishing for a particular document. He put it on the table, turned it towards Gibbs and slipped a pen out of his pocket, offering it to the older agent. "You're not NCIS anymore."

Gibbs laughed slightly at this, quickly drawing the pen across the dotted line. "Doesn't feel that way."

"Well, doesn't mean you're ostracized from the family." Vance smiled, picking up the signed form and giving it a pointed shake.

Gibbs chuckled, already turning around, doorknob in hand. "See ya in the morning, Leon."

* * *

><p>Ziva placed the rim of the conic glass gently on her lower lip as she proceeded to stare at the neatly arranged battle line of colorful liquor bottles that backed up the bar she was currently sitting at.<p>

"Had a hunch I'd find you here", McGee declared with a knowing smile, taking a seat on the stool beside her.

"Yes?", Ziva returned rhetorically, setting the glass back down. "How is that?"

"Saw Tony leave for the lab with a bags full of takeout", he clarified, placing his usual order. "Always the best indicator." Silence engulfed them for a while as they both waited for a glass to be put on the napkin the waiter had just dropped in front of him.

"You do not need to uphold…traditions if you want to be with Liora, you know that." Ziva turned towards her partner-in-the-field and friend of longer, a smile playing on her lips. "I am perfectly fine by myself tonight."

"Nah", McGee waved her off, smiling, "Gibbs likes his sleepovers crowded."

"He sure loves their attention", she added wistfully.

"And showering them with it."

Ziva nodded eventually, not looking at McGee and rather playing with the stem of the glass. They had tried fighting Gibbs on the matter of taking on the kids on his first night back, but he had deftly ignored them. Tali had been just as excited about his return as David and even though he might not have admitted it, but he had missed his grandchildren - no need denying it. A smile planted itself firmly on their faces as they remembered both the kids' and Gibbs' excitement, ever so different in quality, upon their delivery at Gibbs' house. All four of them had routinely checked up on the Gibbs residence, cleaned here and there, checked the mail. If anything, they had all wanted to allow Gibbs to slip right back into his life alongside them.

McGee watched her for a while in the corner of his eyes, accepting his drink and taking two obligatory, silent sips before he turned back to look at her. "Still reeling from the Israeli reminder?"

Ziva snorted slightly. Her eyebrows rose. "Tony thinks I am overreacting."

When she finally turned to look at him, his knowing smile was waiting for her. "Which you are?", he inquired tentatively.

The tips of her mouth shot upwards ever so softly. "Which I am…_always_… I am entitled to overreact when it is about the kids."

McGee's eyebrows rose slightly. "Is it?"

Ziva gave a faint but noticeable nod. "My gut says it involves us…_me_. And then it involves them as well."

"You told Tony that?"

"Tony _knows_ that… I just cannot shake the feeling that something is bound to happen. And with Eli-"

"The famous ninja senses kicking in", he observed. She nodded. He nodded. "So, we're just gonna wait and worry till the train hits?"

"I suppose so."

"You think we're prepared for impact, _if_ there's an impact?"

"I should hope we are."

"Guess that's all we can do", he asserted, his eyebrows falling again.

Ziva turned in time to catch his silent point, allowing it to drive a small smile on her face. She nodded. He was right after all. There was little more she could- _they_ could do to prepare, yet she had never been one for patience. They remained silent then, both filling it with sips, McGee too counting the bottles on the wall opposite them.

Without looking up Ziva asked suddenly, "So, you had your meeting with the Adoption Agency last week?" They both knew they would go there this evening. They both knew.

McGee nodded. He also knew that this wasn't actually the question she wanted an answer to. He took another sip, waited a bit. "Liora's dad was nice enough. He seems…_true_. I believe him that he didn't know about her until recently. And I get that he wants to meet her."

"He wants to meet her?" Ziva hitched herself to the more incredulous part of McGee's statement.

McGee, however, seemed not at all perturbed. "He _is_ her father."

Ziva shook her head. "_You_ are her father, Tim. He is just biology."

He gave her a good-natured smile. "Don't worry. I know that. I know I'm Liora's father", he said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm scared as _hell_ that we could lose her, because I'm _that_…I'm not her biological father. But…"

Ziva searched for his eyes again as McGee had chosen to find a spot on the opposite wall more interesting for the time being. "But?"

He shrugged. "That turns out to be not so much of an issue."

"That's good." Ziva fixed a slight question mark to the statement, watching it tickle into McGee's system and show up on his face. His expressions usually made for a good read.

"It is…", he breathed, then his brows furrowed again. "Did we mention that he didn't get there by himself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Liora. Her fa- Nolan, Nolan Walker. He didn't just hire a PI, he had a reason to."

Ziva's eyes narrowed distinctly. "Someone told him she existed?"

McGee nodded solemnly. "And from what I could see on the security footage he was nice enough to give me…it was Rikers." Patrick Rikers. The spear head behind the revenge plot that had almost cost the life of all their NCIS family. Ziva's mouth gaped momentarily, the edges of her mouth almost slipping upwards in a disbelieving laugh. McGee nodded again. "Quite a long time for an aftershock to set in, don't you think?"

A soft _'Ha' _slipped from somewhere down Ziva's throat. In her humble experience aftershocks had a tendency to be sneaky all-time occurrences in their lives. "What took him so long?", she asked sardonically, taking a sip.

McGee shrugged again, watching the waves of the dark brown liquid in his glass crash against its rim. "Needed time to debate with himself if it was worth looking. The PI took his time to find us. Then he needed time to debate with himself if he should come forward…", McGee mused, his voice quiet. "Doesn't matter, though."

Ziva nodded. He was right, it didn't. Once again silence fell between them. Those quiet evenings, when for some reason neither of them had to take care of kids, nor cases were piling up, nor other things seemed more pressing - they cherished them, those quiet evenings when they could just talk, sit and talk, or not talk for that matter.

"So, what _is_ the issue then?", Ziva asked eventually.

McGee turned to face her. "That he offered to take her back."

Ziva's eyebrows rose instantly. "He what?"

"As an afterthought he told us about how his wife and he can't have kids and that he leads a good life and has all this money and could give her a really good life…" McGee lost his voice on the last syllable, turning away from Ziva once again.

Ziva looked on, incredulous. "You are not seriously giving this a second thought, are you?"

McGee started shaking his head, but then stopped, once again staring at his favorite spot on the wall opposite them. "I mean, in a way… Johnston was right, wasn't he? Doesn't matter how much Abby and I are making, we could never give her even half of what Nolan could-"

"Stop it, Tim. Stop", Ziva cut in forcefully, her hand finding its way to his shoulder. "I know it is not easy, _especially_ when you want more than one child", she gave him a reassuring smile when he looked up at her knowingly, "But you manage. _We_…manage. And then it is not all about the money. She is your daughter, no matter what, and when you clear your head of what this man said, you will know that I am right."

For a second McGee just looked at Ziva, allowing himself to feel the touch of her hand on his arm and appreciate her comfort. A fleeting smile crept onto his lips and he nodded.

* * *

><p>When Tony, two bags of takeout in his hand, arrived at the lab, music was blaring incessantly. He looked around for a while until he spotted Abby in her office, wearing the ear protection Ziva and he had gotten her for Christmas last year. More like tech-skilled earmuffs.<p>

"Abby, hey Abby!", he called out, using his upper arms as little defense against the sound. "Hey Abby! Abby!"

The second the woman in question laid eyes on her oldest friend, she flicked her finger against something on the table in front of her and the music stopped. She took her muffs off just in time for his last yell of_ 'Hey Abby!'_

She seemed startled for a second, joining him as fast as her plateau boots would carry her. "Annoying Orange much, Tony?"

He scowled. "What's with the muffs?"

She shrugged. "I was trying something earlier, but it didn't work. Sometimes I just forget them, you know, they're so comfy." She smiled an innocent smile and went over to her computers. "Got something for you."

Tony stepped up behind her. "Hoped you would. Prints on the gun?"

"Even better", she asserted. "Saliva."

"The shooter licked the casing?", he asked, a little irritated by his own suggestion.

"Sick sense of reverence, I guess", she stated nonchalantly while pulling up a few charts on screen. "But the interesting thing is it matches the saliva on the gum."

Tony threw his head back. "Really?"

"Yep. It also shows traces of the same sedative I found on the gum. It's the same guy."

"We just don't know which guy."

"We'll get there", Abby assured him.

"Anything else?"

Abby instantly hummed in affirmation, showing him the simulation of the shooting she had already shown him earlier that day. "The casing matches the bullet Metro found stuck in the concrete a few feet from where you were standing", she explained, indicating the respective places and times in her simulation. "Slug is a 7.62x51 mil. NATO, full metal jacket. It's definitely a sniper rifle. I can't pinpoint which, though."

Tony gave her a sweet smile. "We'll get there."

Then he turned around and went into her office, placing the bags in the middle of the pre-set table that usually served as Abby's desk. While he started unpacking its edible goods, he caught Abby standing in the doorway with two beers in hand and a reverent look on her face.

"Indian", Tony asserted with an air of eerie delight.

"The one takeout our hubbies agree to hate", Abby added, taking a seat opposite him.

"I don't get it", Tony declared unceremoniously, starting to shove a rather big fork into his mouth.

"Right? I mean, what's not to love?" Abby followed his example, swallowing rather quickly to elaborate on another point. "And added bonus: Because of the smell I won't have to Patchouli up the place for at least a week." Tony opened his arms in an all-involving and approving gesture.

After a while of silent devouring, Abby blurted out, "So, start cracking the headlines, Bossman-Probie."

"Still with the Probie?", Tony replied with an almost pained look on his face. "It's been what now? Two years?"

"And you've been calling McGee that for…_how_ long?"

Tony couldn't defy those eyebrows rising pointedly in the most Abby-esque of manners. "As long as it's our secret."

"I say it with love."

Tony couldn't suppress a smile - more at sweet remembrance than anything else. "I'm kinda starting to dig Ziva's…_disquietude_- That even a word?"

Abby was no stranger to detecting the somberly serious undertones that rang through every one of Tony's words even if spoken in the voice of sarcasm, irony or playfulness. "You think there's more to the Arik thing? And the Eli thing? And the Leahy thing?"

"Ziva's never wrong about stuff like this", he asserted dryly, putting his fork down and taking a long sip of the beer that had thus far rested beside him, untouched. "And she'd never be this _vocal _about it either if she didn't think it was serious."

"But as of today we're all reinforced. The whole gang. Got through it before, will get through it this time. Easy as that", Abby smiled, every ounce of assuredness weighing upon her statement.

A small smile flickered across Tony's face. "It's just… It's not supposed to be like this, right?"

Abby looked at him, long and hard, and it drove a pained expression on her face and for real. "This is not Ziva's fault. And neither is it _yours_, Tony. It's just the way it is. And we deal with it. As a family."

Tony closed his right hand around the neck of his beer bottle, holding onto it with an iron grip. "_I'm_ supposed to protect them. _I'm_ supposed to- to-"

"You protect each other. That's how you roll." Abby tried her best to muster up a reassuring smile.

Tony snorted. "Whole lotta good protecting we did when Leahy dropped dead between us."

"Tony…"

"A few inches to the left. A few inches to the right. We'd be-"

"Don't think like that", Abby cut in forcefully. "You do what you do." Then, suddenly, her eyes wandered to the left, to the place where, two years ago, Ziva had been sitting on the floor with Tali in her lap, feeling just as guilty as Tony that they were putting their kids, and their own relationship, through the repercussions of what they were doing for a living. She smiled remembering that conversation. She looked back at Tony, sincerity in her eyes. "We're gonna be okay."

Tony couldn't help it. Abby was all bubbly and about the big words, the big speeches, the long and winding roads to arrive at a point. However, he had always deemed her most sincere with the small statements, the one-liners. It drove her point right home. It did. He gave her a slight nod and put down the bottle again, instead picking his fork back up to finish his plate.

When they had both arrived at dessert a while later, the silence between them lingering comfortably, he glanced up. "We going to talk about what's bothering you s'well?"

Abby sighed. The happy expression that had settled on her face soon vanished. She looked positively anxious. She had known they would go there tonight. McGee and she had agreed that they would tell their best friends as soon as possible. They were a family. They needed a family. So, she told him. She told Tony about the meeting at the agency; told him that Nolan was a decent guy, for what it's worth; told him that the whole genetics issue was ridiculous in her eyes, but that she still felt for Tim having to look into the eyes of the man that could also, even for ridiculous reasons, call himself Liora's father; told him about the money, the PI, and Patrick Rikers.

She also told him that McGee and she, after having confirmed Rikers' identity, had done some research on the others involved in the plot from two years ago, and their current whereabouts: Rikers had committed suicide following his arrest, hanging himself in his cell; Theodore Stills had been left paralyzed after an 'accident' in State Prison; Jane Mills was still imprisoned and undergoing close-quarter psychiatric therapy; and Niv Peled was nowhere to be found which, they agreed, was a good thing in his case.

"But you're not seriously thinking that Nolan guy has a point, do you?", Tony inquired eventually, sensing that a related topic might have been an issue for her and McGee somewhere along the lines.

Abby shook her head emphatically. "No, never. Liora has more family here than they could ever give her. She's _our_ daughter. Nothing's going to change that."

Tony smiled. "Good." But when Abby's face became serious again, he pressed on, "What?"

"It's just… I mean…", she started, obviously looking for the right words, "I think I get Ziva's point now. And yours. How some past action, something that's long, long past, might still have these effects on our kids."

"Kick in the gut, isn't it?", Tony relented knowingly.

Abby nodded. "But we're gonna be okay, right?"

A certified DiNozzo-grin spread on his face. "Right." But, still, he couldn't help the way her question resounded multifold in his mind: They were going to be okay. _Right?_

* * *

><p><em>Reviews, ideas, tirads - as always welcome. No refunds, though, I'm afraid.<em>


	21. Rounding Up the Family

**Chap 21 Rounding Up the Family**

**Tuesday, March 30****th**** 2021**

The sun crept quietly through the crack between the window sill and the shades that had been drawn the night before over more than three quarters of the window. On average it was still too cold for that time of the year in DC and it seemed, even now, that the sun was still not in too good a shape to fight through. At least that is how McGee was imagining it, watching the light trickle into the bedroom he shared with his wife. He had carefully shifted his position over half an hour ago, his head now half resting against the headboard, half on his pillow. His arms were folded in front of him. Beside him Abby was still sleeping peacefully. She was buried almost completely beneath the white covers with smiling skulls that she had fallen in love with the second she had spotted them in the store a few months ago.

McGee refrained from saying anything, doing anything. Waking up, the first thing he had noticed was the lack of a presence, Liora's presence, in the middle of their bed. Already he had grown accustomed to her little form couched between them, always curled up into a small ball of content slumber. The night, of course, she had spent at Gibbs' with her cousins. So, instead of gently nudging his daughter awake to get her ready for the day, McGee just sat there, not saying anything and not doing anything but stare at the trapezoid-shaped ray of light streaming in from outside.

He stayed that way for a while, unmoving. It was still early enough. Eventually, he lost track of time until the furry ball of something-or-other started purring on Abby's nightstand. Her eyes fluttered open immediately. McGee had seen it thousands of times before, but it still drove a smile on his face that Abby woke so seamlessly to the sounds of the smallest, faintest, tiniest alarms.

She didn't move, her eyes merely rolled up at him. "You were already asleep when I came."

McGee nodded, bending forward to brush a kiss against her waiting lips. "I think Ziva and I, we were both pretty beat", he explained simply. "Besides, we have a two-boss day ahead of us. Better be well rested for that."

It was Abby's time to nod as she stretched, her extremities briefly flying out into all directions, before she sat up next to him. "Tony and I didn't stay too late either. He helped me lock up and drove me home. Couldn't have been long after you'd gone to bed, Chuck wasn't even halfway to the hills yet."

To unknowing ears Abby's last sentence wouldn't have made much sense, but McGee understood perfectly. As opposed to Ziva's and Tony's situation, Abby and McGee would regularly be running on very asynchronous routines what with him being an MCRT Senior Field Agent and her being NCIS' go-to lab tech - and that, mind, not only for the teams based in Washington. During their busier times, years ago, when they had first moved in together and there had not yet been a child to synchronize their schedules for, they had seen practically nothing of each other: One would be sleeping when the other came home, or still sleeping while the other went into work early. There had been little time to keep each other posted on their constantly varying schedules. That's where Chuck had come in.

Chuck was the name of an avatar in a small, rectangular tablet by the door. He was a little guy who was living in a house beyond the hills. In order to get to that house, and thus get beyond the hills, Chuck had to walk down a long, long road. The track to his house took him about an hour and a half, during which he would grow smaller and smaller as he went farther and farther down the road until he would vanish completely behind the hills. When either Abby or McGee came home or left early then, they would set Chuck's tablet and send him on his way towards the hills. So, when the other one came home or got up, they could check with Chuck and estimate, seeing how far he had already come on his home-bound track, if it was still okay to wake the other one up, or give the other one a quick call on their way to work. It was a basic setup. It was a cute setup. Abby had instantly fallen in love with the idea. Others might think it obsolete. Now, at the current stage of their life, it was quite obsolete anyway. Liora had induced a more attentive schedule in both of her parents. But sometimes, sometimes they still made use of Chuck. For old times' sake.

Their eyes met over the empty midline of their king-sized bed. "Ready to get our daughter back?", McGee asked pointedly, a small smile on his face.

Rather than answer him Abby leaned over and returned his kiss from before. With a small smile she swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped into her black-white coffin-shaped slippers. "I'll go pack another diaper bag, just in case", she said, already on her way to the door.

McGee, running a hand over the stubble on his face, turned just in time. "Don't forget to pack at least another outfit too, I'm sure-"

Abby stopped him with a grin. "Always so attentive, McDaddy." With that she was out the door.

McGee could hear her start rummaging through Liora's drawers. He couldn't help but hold onto his grin on his way to the kitchen. He would never get tired of hearing that word: _daddy_.

* * *

><p>Ziva dropped her keys in the bowl by the door. She eyed it for a second. Tony had brought that bowl back from Rota, a gift from the office upon his departure. It wasn't the prettiest bowl beneath the sun. It was reddish brown with faint blue-black ornamentation running along its rim. There wasn't much use for it, so they had placed it on the little bench by the door to hold their keys, lost-and-found toys, and whichever small item someone found lying around in the apartment. The bowl was one of the few things that had changed about their apartment upon Tony's return, too. Yes, he had added to the pictures and books and, in particular, the DVD collection in the study and the living room. And now there were two strongboxes with spare guns hidden from the kids. But furniture he had left in his small apartment in Spain, finding no need to merge anything; rather finding need to return.<p>

Ziva slipped her bag off and dumped it next to the couch, already on her way to the bathroom when she noticed Tony in the kitchen. She stopped hard in her tracks. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was still early. She thought he would be sleeping, having come in only after she had fallen asleep last night after all. Slightly scratching her temple, she crept into the kitchen. Tony was standing by the sink, both of his arms braced against its surface. An empty glass rested on the counter top next to him.

"Tony", she said quietly, putting a hand on his lower left arm.

He took a moment to turn around. When he did, only a small startled smile was playing on his lips. "Mornin'", he mumbled, leaning forward for a quick peck on the lips.

Ziva's forehead furrowed, her hand not abandoning its place on his arm. "Are you alright, Tony?"

He nodded somewhat and turned around fully, now leaning against the sink and looking at her. "Just thinking."

"About what?", she asked casually.

She knew right well that they had both had overdue conversations with their friends, and she saw no need to dig themselves in even deeper now, at the beginning of a long work day, with overbearing questions. Her eyebrows rose for just a second before she ducked around his momentary silence to fill his glass with water. Then she went to the cabinet on the far side of the kitchen and reached for a small box on the uppermost shelf. She snapped it open, took out one of the pills hidden inside and put the box back where it belonged - far away from the kids' reach. She gulped it down with three big sips of water.

"They're almost out", Tony observed, having followed her with his eyes. "Gonna swing by Bennett's office this week and get you a new prescription."

Ziva nodded her thanks and put the glass into the sink. Ever since the accident two years ago Bennett had been her physician. After Ducky's departure it had come in handy to have another doctor who had already been read in on her complicated and distinctly horrifying medical history. Ziva briefly glanced back up at the box of pills. They were for coagulopathy, or for bone density problems, or for boosting her immune system. She didn't quite remember, actually. Bennett had explained it to Tony and her, something about infections and scarring and past injuries. It was easier not to remember exactly why she was taking certain things; not to remember what exactly had happened to her to warrant a constant intake of medications. Other women were simply taking the pill on a daily basis. That had almost taken care of itself for Ziva, now, hadn't it? Ziva's routines were different than that of most.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she turned back to Tony, her eyebrows rising once again. He gave her a small smile. Finally, he relented. "I was thinking that I never think we might not make it, the two of us."

Even though she could easily place his expression, and she knew that he had meant it to be a positive thing, she didn't quite understand. "What do you-"

"I mean that I know we have our problems, and we fight, and the kids have problems, and we worry, and our jobs aren't easy, and we take on a whole lot of risk, and we see a lot of crap happening to people", he elaborated, bouncing a bit off his palms that were still resting on the counter. "And then there's cases like these where we freak out, constantly, because for some reason we seem to get swallowed whole by it. And I know there is a lot to be scared of… But I never worry that the two of us might not make it."

He was absolutely sincere. She could see it. She loved him for it. But she still wasn't sure she understood. "As in…_survive_?", she inquired tentatively.

Tony snorted softly. "No, believe me, _that_ I worry about all the time." For a moment he was taken back to the hospital bed two years ago, seeing her lying there with her eyes closed against a coma he could not fight for her; taken back to lying in a hospital bed himself that time he had been shot; taken back to all those times they had fought on the brink of death. "No. As in _together_."

"So, you do not think that we will get sick of each other some time?", Ziva quipped in response, thus offering him an easy out from his confession.

Tony didn't take it, though. He smiled, but his voice remained solemn. "I think that, barring any kind of life-threatening run-ins, we'll stay together."

He was talking about constancy. That, they both knew, rang a particularly emotional bell with Ziva. She stepped up to him, slowly, and leaned up to kiss him. Her hand came to rest on his cheek, her ambers in his emeralds. "I love you."

"I know", he returned both her smile and her kiss. "And I intend to keep it that way."

She gave him her most endearing smile before slinging her arms around his waist, placing her head squarely against his chest. "Just stay", she breathed against his shirt, her mind wandering back to the bowl by the door.

Tony understood. He leaned down to kiss her forehead before resting his chin on top of her head and linking his arms around her body. This wasn't the most routine position they were in now, he realized. Ziva would lean into him from the side, or fall back against him, or let herself be engulfed in a hug. She was all about touch, his face, his arm. Her kisses were the most comfort to him. To make herself small enough to fit against him in a hug she herself had initiated, with her head on his chest and her arms low around his waist, however, this was the greatest comfort he could give her.

Not letting go in the slightest, merely turning his head enough so she could hear him, Tony asked, "How was your heart-to-heart with McGee?"

"Good. Really good", she answered. He could feel her smile against him.

He waited for a few seconds, then, "You talk about Liora?"

She nodded, a sigh leaving her lips. "I cannot even imagine how it must feel to fight someone else's claim on your child."

Ziva lifted her head slightly to catch his eyes, and he returned her gaze determinedly. "Good thing we don't even have to imagine. They're ours. Nobody's ever gonna take them away."

She nodded again, her chest heaving in a deep breath as she put her head back down. "They will be okay, though."

"We'll be okay", he assured her, feeling the need to. "We'll all be okay."

They remained that way for a while, just lying in each other's arms, nothing and no one around to interrupt or break them up. At some point, however, a distinct smell started to fill Tony's nostrils. Turning slightly in his position, he leant down and sniffed at Ziva's bare upper arm. Pulling back, he frowned at her. "You smell like that chlorine poisoning victim."

Ziva straightened back up. Her eyes were scowling, but her mouth was set in a smile, regardless. "With no kids to take care of in the morning I thought I would take a trip to the pool", she explained, a small chuckle ringing through. "I haven't showered yet."

"Any intention to change that soon?"

"Yes", she drew that syllable out in a low voice, giving way to a seductive edge, "Right now, actually."

A DiNozzo-grin quickly settled on his face. "Incidentally, I haven't showered yet either."

Ziva cocked her head to the side. "Huh…what a coincidence."

"Right? And a nice one at that." Ziva just smiled at him mischievously, stepping away from him just as he was about to sling his arms back around her. If possible, his grin widened. "So, that's how you wanna play?"

Ziva let out a low _'Hmm'_, looking back at him just once as she set out on her way upstairs, humming slightly along. Tony squared his shoulders, a kick in his step as he went after her. No worries. He was very willing to play any game she wanted.

* * *

><p>A little shower get-together on the one, and a quiet breakfast on the other side, both couples arrived on Gibbs' porch at about the same time. Abby and McGee were holding hands, a bright yellow backpack with red rose-shaped buttons slung over his shoulder. Tony and Ziva were each carrying a backpack, one for each kid. Their morning smiles, this time around, were encouraging, comforting even. This was a family thing.<p>

Behind the front door they could hear a chorus of voices. Tony smiled knowingly, taking off his sunglasses. He casually grabbed the doorknob, expecting it to snap open instantly, but for once it didn't. "It's locked", he said, a frown on his face.

"What? It's-", McGee stepped up to try the doorknob himself. "It's locked."

"How do you-"

"What do we-"

"Guys", Abby stopped them short, freezing their perplexed expressions. She stepped around her husband and tapped the glass inlay a few times. "You knock."

Almost on cue the chatter behind the door grew quieter and a second later Gibbs unlocked and opened the door, greeting them with Liora sitting in his arms. Smiles on their faces. The little girl, however, was only clad in a diaper and an obviously oversized shirt. Abby's eyebrows shot up immediately.

"Accident", Gibbs stated evenly, handing Liora over into Abby's awaiting arms.

McGee showed him the backpack. "We came prepared."

"Hey there, baby girl. Did you miss your daddy and me?", Abby cooed, showering the giggling little girl with kisses. "We sure missed you like _craaazy_."

"Miss ya too, Mama", Liora declared, putting a chubby hand on each side of Abby's face before kissing her back.

A content, reassured smile crept onto McGee's face just looking at them. "Come on, you two."

Gibbs stepped aside to allow the three of them to go upstairs for a little privacy in one of the bedrooms that had only recently been remodeled to accommodate beds for all three kids: Gibbs' subtle way of telling them that he expected his grandchildren for sleepovers on a regular basis. Ever since he had retired the kids had spent quite some time at his place, at that. All the stuff he had bought or the kids had smuggled in that was now permanently harbored at his place certainly took account of that. Neither Tony nor Ziva could keep grins off their faces upon the mayhem of toys and games and pillows that presented itself to them where formerly Gibbs' living room had been.

They found David and Tali sitting at the breakfast table in the kitchen, contently munching down their cereal. "Well, sweet cheeks, doesn't look like our kids missed us just as much", Tony remarked, highlighting his words with an exaggerated sigh. Upon his voice, and the familiar sound of a joke from their father's mouth, however, both kids jumped up to receive their elaborate good-mornings.

The moment Ziva kneeled down to hug her Tali placed her head on her mother's shoulder, feeling free to make her still-sleepiness known. David, on the other hand, took a few steps back into the kitchen so as to show off his attire. "Look what Uncle Gibbs got me", he boasted. He turned a little to the side and straightened up so they could examine the overgrown red shirt he was wearing, complete with an implied black Sam Browne belt to round off an imitation of a Canadian Mountie uniform.

"Mixed up the sides of the border, eh?", Tony quipped, earning himself a scowl from Gibbs, but winked at his son nonetheless.

"Did you thank your Uncle Gibbs for your present?", Ziva asked.

"He sure did", Gibbs answered for the eight-year-old, ruffling his hair. When David smiled at him appreciatively for just a second before he moved to straighten out his mat of hair again, Gibbs couldn't help but be reminded of who his father was.

"Uncle Gibbs is not workin' on a boat anymore", Tali piped up.

Ziva frowned. "No? What is he working on then?"

"'s a surprise", Tali whispered, putting her index finger on Ziva's mouth. "Ssh."

"Sure is", Gibbs chuckled. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for school, though?"

"Oh yes, she should", Ziva ascertained, scooping Tali up into her arms.

"You too, big boy", Tony added, nudging David. Tony handed him his backpack and the eight-year-old followed his mother and sister upstairs.

Silence remained for a while after they had left. Tony eventually turned to look at Gibbs. "Ten hundred at the office work for you?", he asked nonchalantly.

Gibbs nodded, but still eyed his former Senior Field Agent wearily. "You guys okay?", he inquired, his eyes narrowed.

Tony scoffed. "Sure, you know, same as always. Creepy guys, dead guys…Israeli guys."

"Israeli?"

"Yeah…you know how it is. They're like airborne allergies. You cough, you wheeze, you snot. Then the season's over and you're feeling fine. But with the first breeze- Bam! Play it again, Sam."

Gibbs threw his head back slightly. "Tough case?"

Tony was about to respond, his mouth gaping open with the first syllable, when they heard Abby and McGee come down the stairs, Liora babbling away to her mother and David recounting the meaning of his new pajamas to his uncle. "The gutsy kind", Tony relented, shooting Gibbs a last knowing glance before stepping up to his son. "Who wants to ride the 'Stang to school?"

After the accident that had totaled Tony's beloved Mustang two year ago, he had insisted on getting the exact same model, even though he now readily admitted Ziva's Mini wasn't all bad either. That also meant, however, neither Tony's nor David's love for that car was waning, while Ziva and Tali could only wonder why. Cars certainly seemed like the most gendered aspect of their lives.

"Me!", David volunteered quickly, already rushing through the door.

Ziva was just coming down the stairs with Tali by her side, catching but the back of her son as he was sprinting towards the street. "Atsor, David! There's cars-"

"I got it", Tony stopped her, already jumping after their son.

"Three kids", Gibbs observed with a small grin, "Told ya, Ziver."

* * *

><p>Once they had dropped off all actual kids at the right school respectively, the adults had fanned out around NCIS headquarters. This had led Tony down to autopsy where he was currently looking into the faces of not one, but <em>two<em> certified M.E.'s. While Gibbs had busied himself taking care of three kids last night, Ducky had spent another quiet night at his manor. And he had found himself dearly missing some of the bustle of the nights he had spent at friends' and family's houses throughout Scotland, Ireland and Great Britain the last couple of months. One way, for him, to regain some of that liveliness right here in DC was to step up when his extended family obviously needed him.

"I want this thorough", Tony instructed with every ounce of authority of the Supervisory Special Agent that he was. His hand indicated the still-covered corpse of Dustin Leahy lying on a stretcher beside them. Metro had delivered him earlier that morning.

"You will get the same thoroughness of examination and observation that you always get", Ducky cautioned with a small smile. He understood the younger man's lingering frustration, but tardiness had never been his particular style, regardless. "Maybe even more than that as we are counting the knowledge of three separate doctoral degrees amongst ourselves in this case."

"No, Ducky, you don't understand", Tony reiterated forcefully. "I want this more thorough than thorough."

"You believe he is the missing link, don't you, Tony?", Ducky inquired knowingly.

Tony nodded his head solemnly. "He might have known something without knowing something."

"You mean like a courier of some kind?", Palmer suggested.

"Carrying information somewhere _on_ or _in_ his body maybe?"

"Just treat this like an alien-kidnapping, 's all", Tony retorted tersely, already turning around to leave the room through the swooshing of double doors.

* * *

><p>"So, we got a dying cryptographer, terrorists on domestic soil, a dead insurance clerk and somewhere in this whole mess Eli David, currently AWOL", Tony summarized, gripping the remote control for the plasma screen tightly in his right hand.<p>

He was flanked by Ziva, McGee and Gibbs in the middle of the bullpen. Just like old times, except for the thick folder he had dropped in Gibbs' lap a few minutes ago to catch their former boss and mentor up on their case.

"Who wants Johnston?", Tony called out, an impatient edge in his voice.

McGee plucked the clicker right out of Tony's grip. With a flick of his finger the Navy ID portrait of Ian Johnston appeared on screen. "Navy Lieutenant. Worked as an IT-specialist for the Pentagon's cryptography department. Genius in his field of work. Came here two weeks ago claiming he had information on a future case", he rattled off, shooting both Tony and Ziva knowing glances at the appropriate places. "What we didn't know at the time was that _he_, in fact, was the case. We put him up in a safehouse. Last time we checked in on him his organs were starting to fail, though. He's dying, and slowly."

Ziva took the remote from McGee's hand, trying to hide the pained look on her face. She quickly glanced at Gibbs who was looking on intently, trying to absorb everything they were saying. "He had been tracing a terrorist cell for a few months, storing all the intel on a computer chip that he handed over to us and that Abby and McGee have been sifting through ever since." She briefly checked with Tony if she had gotten that particular verb-preposition-combination right. Tony nodded. "With its help we now have information on communication logs, arms deals, their travel route-"

"Israelis?", Gibbs cut in, yanking the glasses off his face.

"Apparently so", Ziva confirmed in a low voice.

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, giving her a long hard look. For a while the two just stared at each other, McGee and Tony merely watching them from the sidelines, but when nothing more came Ziva took it as a sign to continue. "We could also identify the safehouse they had used as a stop-over here in DC. The apartment was owned by one Dustin Leahy, an insurance clerk. We found a fresh set of prints on the doorknob after the apartment had apparently been cleaned, but he claimed not to have been there."

"He seemed like a small fish in a bigger pond", Tony added, taking the remote from Ziva and stabbing it with his index finger. Instantly, the pan shot of Leahy's corpse appeared on screen. "That is, of course, until his brain was blown to pieces with a sniper rifle while standing right next to Ziva and me in a parking lot."

Gibbs looked at his former protégé, trying to discern the emotions behind Tony's words. They weren't too hard to pinpoint. "And the terrorists?"

"We believe there's three of them. One guy's named Arik", Tony answered, his voice even. "Right now our only leads are a piece of gum and saliva that Abby found on the shell casing. The DNA on both is a match. So, we're pretty sure those guys killed Leahy. We just don't know why. And Abby's been processing traces of mold found at Leahy's house which apparently had been ransacked."

Gibbs felt strangely winded. They were staring at him and he could do nothing but put on a crooked smile and shift his weight to his left foot. "Anything else you need me to know?"

Tony opened his mouth, but shut it again a second later. Instead, he and McGee turned towards Ziva, looking at her expectantly. Ziva let out a slow breath before fixing Gibbs with her amber eyes. "And my father's assistant…seems to be their contact agent."

"But Eli's missing?", Gibbs concluded.

"We believe so, yes", Ziva confirmed tersely.

"Sanctioned op?"

Tony glanced at Ziva before answering in her place. "We don't think so."

Gibbs' eyebrows jerked upwards. "Why's that?"

Ziva raised her chin, looking resolute. "We just do."

Gibbs nodded. "And where do I fit in?"

"Sergeant Jared Cooper", McGee inserted, pulling up his picture and the related case file. "Leahy claimed the safehouse was actually Cooper's while he was just his landlord."

"Cooper's dead, though", Tony clarified. "And that's exactly where you come in, Gibbs."

"Thirty-year-old case?", the older agent asked skeptically, a frown settling on his face. When he found nothing in their faces but slight nods, however, he turned around and leaned against his old desk, facing them. "Cooper was shot in a robbery at a liquor store in 1992. I was new at NCIS and Mike-", Gibbs chuckled remembering his mentor, his gaze briefly wandering off to the side, "Mike sent me to do scut work, deal with local LEOs. Jurisdiction was a mess."

"Don't tell me you let it go", Tony whined, throwing his head to the side. "Don't tell me this is another unavanged victim coming back to haunt you."

Gibbs had already raised his hand, ready to deliver a slap to the back of Tony's head, but instead he stopped, his arm then falling limply back against his side. His frown remained. "No, DiNozzo, my gut told me there was something off. I convinced Ducky to do an autopsy. For a while he didn't find anything but the GSW. Mike was ready to kill me", Gibbs recounted, a small smile settling on his lips, "But then Ducky found a ricin pellet lodged in Cooper's left upper arm."

"Wait, I know that one", McGee cut in. "KGB method."

"The Dana Hutton case", Tony added. For a brief moment he met Ziva's eyes, offering her a small smile.

Gibbs nodded for a while, then started shaking his head instead. "We never found who did it."

"You thought that Cooper was shot before he could die of contamination?", Tony tried to clarify.

Gibbs nodded again.

"It certainly is…a _valid_ technique", Ziva said.

McGee shook his head anyway. "I still don't get why people go to so much trouble."

"To avoid suspicion", Ziva explained solemnly. "Also, people who fit the profile could then be used as cover IDs, their assets could be utilized, their houses left dormant as safehouses. Like I said, techniques used by _many_ agencies."

"You really think that's what this could be?", Tony asked, skeptical. "Cooper was killed thirty years ago for his apartment?"

"I certainly would not put it past any agency to do just that. _Mossad_ among them", Ziva declared. "But they would have never just poisoned an innocent man simply because his death would have come in handy."

"You sure about that?", Gibbs inquired through narrowed eyes.

"Yes." Ziva quickly matched his expression, remaining defiant. "Because I never killed _anyone_ out of sheer convenience."

McGee, aware of the growing tension in the room, decided to point them all back at the elephant in the room. "Which leaves us empty-handed any way you turn it."

Tony, drawing a hash with the index and middle finger of his right hand, added unceremoniously, "_Hashtag_… Hate this."

Gibbs eventually tore his eyes away from Ziva. "Leahy", he said, to no one in particular.

"Why kill him?", McGee asked the quintessential question.

"We do not have anything on Arik and his men just because he gave us Cooper's name", Ziva surmised. "There was no reason to kill him."

"Leahy must have known more than that."

"He didn't know anything, he said so himself", Tony cautioned. "And he didn't really strike me as a very _secret-to-the-grave_ kinda guy."

"Maybe he didn't know that he knew something", Gibbs interjected.

A smirk appeared on Tony's face. "Great minds do think alike."

* * *

><p>After Gibbs had completed a midday coffee run that had taken considerably longer due to various people's strange interest in his trip - not least among them Selma, the coffee cart lady - he found the bullpen empty upon his return. Recognizing the hollow scratching noise, however, he turned right and made his way to the copy room. There he laid eyes on Ziva printing, copying and stapling big stacks of paper. He leant against the doorframe, taking the odd sip from his cup, scrutinizing her.<p>

"How are you, Ziver?", he asked eventually.

She turned, stopping her current task for a moment. A smile settled on her face. "Good", she answered evenly. "You have seen the kids. They are great-"

"You", Gibbs reiterated, eyeing her closely over the rim of his cup.

She sighed. "Being an overprotective and constantly worrying mother, I guess."

"Perspective", Gibbs nodded, a small smirk on his face. Ziva mimicked his nod, but soon returned to her stapling while Gibbs continued watching her. A few minutes passed. "Eli."

"What about him?", Ziva retorted quickly.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"No, Gibbs", Ziva declined. "Not after everything you've done for me, I cannot."

"He's your father, Ziva."

"So are you…Gibbs", she countered softly, "Even more so."

"He's still it, though." He finally took the few remaining steps towards her, a gentle smile on his face. He reached out and slipped a strand of hair that fallen from her clip back behind her ear. "It's okay…to be scared."

"I am not scared…for _him_", Ziva shook her head decidedly. "I might be worried for the kids, but that- that is to be expected, I guess. Eli…"

"Rule #40."

Ziva grunted exasperatedly. "But that is just it, Gibbs. It was different two years ago. That was about me."

"And this isn't."

Ziva shook her head, but stopped to sigh exasperatedly. "Oh, I don't know."

Gibbs nodded in understanding, "Okay." Slinging an arm around her waist, he leaned forward and gently kissed her temple. "We'll protect them."

Ziva nodded, taking a deep breath, her head leaning sideways. They waited another heartbeat and then walked out together, Ziva with copies under her arm. "I _am_ glad you're back, Gibbs."

He just smirked. "No cheaper babysitter around."

Entering the bullpen, they almost ran into Tony shooting up from behind his desk. Tony's eyes instantly darted towards Gibbs' protective arm around his partner and a fleeting smile crossed his features. "Ducky and Jimmy just called", he informed them. Focusing on Gibbs, he added, "Wanna come with?"

Gibbs frowned. "You sure?"

Tony winked at Ziva upon her knowing smile. "For old times' sake", Tony retorted, already starting to walk away. "As an observer."

Gibbs smiled crookedly, but followed the younger agent nonetheless.

Tony chose to walk down the stairs, trying to avoid awkward elevator silences for one, and more than that he had come to appreciate a clear head and that worked best when he stayed in constant motion.

"We think we might have found what Mr. Leahy didn't know he knew", Ducky greeted both of them when they entered the autopsy room.

"His own position", Palmer put in.

Tony's and Gibbs' eyes met in a brief glance. When they stepped up to the autopsy table with Leahy on it, however, Gibbs made a point of standing back a little. That way, it was Palmer doing the pointing and explaining while Ducky held Leahy's head steady, and Tony doing the dot-connecting while Gibbs hung back. My, how times have changed.

"We found a chip, _very_ small chip, inserted between Leahy's lower left molars", Palmer indicated the teeth in question. "We already sent it up to Abby and McGee. They're processing it as we speak."

"Their preliminary assessment identified it as some kind of tracking device, however", Ducky added.

"When Ziva interrogated him, Leahy told her he had been robbed a few days before", Tony asserted. "That's when they must've done it. Must've taken his prints then, too, and led us right to him."

"Collateral damage", Gibbs surmised.

"Unfortunately, we have no hope of finding any traces of a drug that could have induced a temporary state of somnolence or unconsciousness", Ducky said, sighing. "If that is what happened to the poor fellow anyway."

Palmer picked up on matching looks of impatience on both Tony's and Gibbs' face. "Abby re-tested his blood and stomach content, but she didn't find anything."

Tony nodded, leaning in close to the corpse of the man he had been talking to only seconds before his untimely demise. He blinked. "They knew where he was every step of the way. When he was here at NCIS, when he was home, or at his safe place, or in a parking lot with Ziva and me."

"Still doesn't answer the _why_, though."

* * *

><p>When the elevator doors had slipped shut behind them, Gibbs had shot him a swift glance as if to make sure Tony wanted him there. And he did. Without further ado the younger agent pressed the button for the floor Abby's lab was on, taking a step back to give Gibbs a bit of space to get off ahead of him. They stepped over the threshold of the lab, in unison, only to have an alarm start ringing that same second on one of Abby's computers.<p>

Abby turned around, seizing Gibbs with a gaze of deep adoration. "The real deal."

Gibbs smirked, leaning a bit to the side so Tony could appreciate the full radiance of his twitching lips. Tony, however, merely huffed and chose to concentrate on Abby. "The chip Ducky and Palmer found?"

"Tracker", Abby clarified with a nod, turning to type into her keyboard. "I already matched the GPS log to a few places we know Leahy was at during the last few days. This puppy is a tracking device alright."

"So, how'd they do it?", Tony inquired.

Abby took a step back from her desk in an attempt to fit both her current and her former boss, and both her friends, into her field of vision. "It's a very basic setup. They did nothing artsy", she explained, her arms and hands doing a lot of the talking. "The tracker sent out a low-frequency signal that was picked up by a transmitter latching onto the same frequency. They did some encoding of the signal so that it couldn't be accessed just by anybody and by accident, but that's about it."

"Did you-"

"McGee will try to back-trace the signal to the transmitter first thing tomorrow", Abby interrupted, a proud smile on her face.

"Tomorrow?", Gibbs asked, his eyes narrowing.

Abby sighed. "One of us needed to pick up Liora early today and-"

"Everything okay?"

"Sure. Cameron's cramming for an exam and we gave her the rest of the week off, though."

"Good thing I'm back then", Gibbs quipped.

"You have no idea", Abby retorted, her smile getting bigger. "But that's not why my baby chirped."

"No?"

"No." She turned her attention back to the keyboard in front of her and pulled up a disgustingly micro-focused picture of a strangely familiar material and a chart next to it. "I finally specified the mold from Leahy's house. I was right. It's Stachybotrys, actually it's _Stachybotrys chartarum_, 'black mold' or 'toxic black mold'. It usually grows in damp buildings."

"Sick building syndrome", Tony deduced.

Abby looked actually impressed. "Trying to one-up the bossman, huh?"

Tony smiled at her. "So, if we assume that our guests really were in Leahy's house-"

"-and that maybe they left a little something behind without realizing it-"

"-then we got ourselves two leads on where they might be hiding", Gibbs summarized. "Abs-"

"-crosscheck with the city's Health Department", Tony continued, beating Gibbs to the order for the next-pressing task.

"To see if officials might have locked down any buildings due to mold infestation in the last couple of days, which our terrorist group might have used to set up a new camp in?", Abby said, grinning. "Yeah, started doing that ten minutes ago."

"Thanks, Abs", Tony concluded, presenting her with a _TofPow _bar before leaving to go upstairs and take some of the paperwork off Ziva's hands - delegate it to somebody else, that is - so she could pick Tali up from school.

For a second there, Tony had thought Gibbs was following him into the elevator, but before the doors had closed shut Gibbs had turned around and gone back into the lab. For a second there, Abby had been left flabbergasted. When Gibbs strolled back into her lab with a _CafPow_ in hand, she couldn't contain herself any longer, though. She jumped into his waiting arms and engulfed him in a bear hug.

"I missed you, Gibbs", she whispered into his shirt from where she had buried her face in his shoulder.

Gibbs gently linked his arms around her. "Missed you too, kid."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading. Always appreciating your thoughts.<em>


	22. Trusting Tides

_**AN:** I know... First I don't update for a year, and then the updates just keep coming staccato style. I'll try my best, but don't get too used to it :)**  
><strong>_

_The next three chapters will detail the very **climax of this story**. They will tie up most of the loose ends dangling around, they will result in the very twist that was the core idea for this story and they will conclude my notes (i.e. the outsourced brain I made for myself when I first started this story...many moons ago). Needless to say, the story does not end there. I hope I can keep your interest and my motivation up to keep going... **Let me know what you think!**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 22 Trusting Tides<strong>

**Wednesday, March 31****st**** 2021**

Gibbs silenced the alarm clock on his nightstand with a sharp stab to one of its buttons. He had been lying awake in bed for over an hour probably, thinking. Sleep wasn't his preferred manner of passing a day any way you turned it. With a low grunt he swung his legs out the side of the bed. He stayed there for a second, his arms propped up against the mattress, fixing the carpentry of his bedroom with a glare and appreciating the fact that he was getting on. Nowadays, however, it was strange. Sure, he was more of a grandfather to the kids than an uncle, but he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without that. He was a retired NCIS Agent. Sure, he could have gone down to Mexico and rebuilt Mike's old place. Sure, he could have gone there. But thanks to what he had built over the last decades in his job he now had a distinct purpose, not only in his own life, but in the life of a family surrounding him.

It sent a smile to his face as he passed the adjacent rooms on his track downstairs, the kids' guest rooms. It had taken him over two decades to take the boxes with Shannon's and Kelly's memories up to the attic, but by the time a practical reason had arisen to do so - and that reason were his grandkids - he had not felt the slightest hesitation at turning the whole emptiness of a shrine into something completely different. He walked past the picture David had drawn in honor of Gibbs' return, which he had immediately put up on the wall - and his smile possibly grew even bigger.

* * *

><p>Ziva crept quietly into her son's room, only soft light filtering in through the curtains drawn. She stepped up to the window and carefully pushed them aside, flooding the room with early-morning sunlight and the promises of a new day. Turning around to check the clothes they had laid out the day before for their suitability given today's weather, Ziva couldn't help but smile when she spotted the Canadian Mountie pajamas flung over David's desk chair. When Tony had handed it to him as his choice of pajamas during bath time the night before, the eight-year-old had insisted they were just for use in Uncle Gibbs' house and for sleepovers; and that's that. Now he was wearing his old ones instead.<p>

Ziva picked up the book that had obviously slipped from her son's grasp the night before as she kneeled down beside his bed. She ran a hand through his hair, inducing the slightest stir. "Boker tov, tateleh", she whispered. "Time to wake up."

David stalled for a while in sweet semi-consciousness until his eyes slipped open and he was greeted by his mother's sweet smile. "Morning, mommy."

"Your sister is still asleep, please try not to wake her", Ziva said quickly, thinking it best to deliver the most pressing news first. "And then you, me and your dad will have breakfast together, yes?"

He nodded, already climbing out of his bed. Ziva straightened up as well, handed David his clothes and watched as he staggered out the door and into the bathroom. She chuckled a little to herself on her way out of his room, not sure whether anything she had just said had registered with the little boy yet. She listened for a second out in the hallway, first for wakeful stirring in Tali's room and then for any requests or problems in the bathroom, but nothing reached her ear.

So, she joined Tony in the kitchen where he had already set the breakfast table and was busy boosting his veins with the first cup of morning coffee. Ziva leant up to kiss him when he offered her a cup of jasmine tea, treasuring that sweet gesture of twosome-ness before David entered the kitchen, exchanged morning hugs with his dad and requested help with a particularly obstinate zipper.

"Why's Tali still sleeping?", the little boy asked eventually, looking down at his mother as Ziva had crouched down to help him.

"She does not have school today", Ziva answered, grinning triumphantly when the zipper on her son's jacket finally did what she wanted it to. She got up and led David to the table, where Tony had already started filling their plates with all the goods they had had ample time to prepare since Tali's school had chosen a particularly ungodly time in the morning to inform them of the sudden turn of events.

Both Tony and Ziva, however, had also picked up on how David's face had fallen considerably upon realizing what that meant. "So, while Tali's going on a shopping spree with your mom, I thought the two of us could pay your Uncle Gibbs and his backyard a good long visit and show him your mad soccer skills", Tony ventured with a knowing smile, putting a full plate down in front of his son with a pointed _clonk_. "How's that sound?"

David's eyes went wide with excitement. "Really?" He turned to Ziva for confirmation, and she simply nodded her head. "Awesome", was all he said, shooting a grateful smile at both of his parents before he started digging into his breakfast.

Tony's and Ziva's eyes met across their son. It wasn't easy. For Ziva to take the morning off and take Tali shopping, she had planned to put in a few hours on Saturday or Sunday. This, in turn, meant that Tony had to come up with a good idea to entertain both of their kids, depending on the weather, while Ziva was away at work. Their long-standing plan to take on revamping David's room had to be shelved once again. Also, for Tony to leave on time to pick up David and go to Gibbs' place - Gibbs, who they had called earlier and who, luckily, had quickly agreed to their plan - Ziva would need to stay late today and pick up the slack. They really didn't want to take away from McGee's time with Liora and Abby at a time like this; they just couldn't ask him to cover for them this time. That, of course, also meant that Tali would have to stay late with Ziva at the office. The little girl, they realized, was not going to be too happy about that, but all the juggling was worth it in the end. They were sure of it; watching David smile happily all throughout breakfast, they were sure of it.

* * *

><p>Having successfully dropped off David at Gavington Elementary, Tony was now standing in the doorway to Abby's lab, a strange look on his face. Something felt off. He had felt it right away. There was no music, only blatant silence; it made him, probably for the first time ever, notice the faint clicking and scratching and tapping that emanated from the various machines in the room. Still, only half of the computers were turned on, accounting for a lot of black, black screens. And the door to Abby's office was still locked and sealed shut with her <em>'I will know what you did while I was gone'<em>-sticker. Tony was pretty sure that the lab's only occupant, McGee, of all people, would have known how and be allowed to break the seal without suffering further injuries, but he hadn't done so.

"Lacks… Femininity, is it?", Tony commented eventually, taking a few steps into the room.

"Lacks Abby", McGee asserted in response, turning only slightly from his position at one of the left-side computers.

"So, where is she?"

"Liora", McGee explained simply, waiting for Tony to add anything. When Tony didn't respond, however, he abandoned his current task and turned to face his friend and colleague. Sure enough, he found Tony eye him curiously. "She didn't feel well this morning, and Abby doesn't need to be here until later, so she stayed home with her at least until lunch. I think Cameron's exam is at eleven, she should be able to take over for the evening."

Tony hadn't expected to get just this amount of detail from him, but he realized this was less about his own need to know than McGee's need to let him know. "You think she's feeling it?", Tony asked, thinking of his own children. "Kids tend to pick up on things like that."

"I don't know, maybe… Probably", McGee answered, a smile tugging a little at his lips upon Tony's insistent stare. "I guess so. When I left today I was thinking…maybe. Maybe she knows that Abby- that _we_ kind of, you know, are a little on edge. Maybe that's not good for her or maybe she's just giving us a chance to be even closer to her. I don't know." He ended in a sigh.

Tony put on a smile, gently patting McGee on the shoulder. "They also tend to appreciate that you're there for them."

McGee let his head roll from one side to the other, unsure but grateful. "Where's Ziva?", he inquired, closing the topic for the time being.

"Water-mains burst in two separate parts of the building, so Tali's school is closed for the day", Tony said, leaning against the evidence table behind him. "They put up some impromptu daycare, but Ziva's been meaning to take her shopping for her costume and stuff anyway and we're still, you know… So-"

McGee nodded, understanding perfectly well. He turned back to his computer, and clicked through a few charts, lists and logs. "I've been plowing through the remaining material on Johnston's chip for the past days, but there's no viable lead", McGee informed his boss. "The second they made him it's all bogus intel."

Tony nodded his head, not even trying to decipher the symbols running and jumping around on McGee's screen. "No surprise there", Tony retorted. "And the tracker in Leahy's tooth?"

Finally, a smile settled on McGee's face. "Got it two seconds before you came in", he said, pulling up a map of the DC area. "Rudimentary encryption. I located the signal transmitter in an empty warehouse downtown."

"Empty warehouse, you say?", Tony snorted, feeling taken back to the Rikers-case a little over two years ago. "Our lucky charm. Let's go check it out."

McGee nodded and punched in some kind of code, as a result shutting off all remaining computers in the lab, before he followed Tony upstairs. When they arrived in the bullpen, they were once again met by a strange picture: Gibbs was sitting at McGee's old desk, the desk that was ususally empty except for the odd agent assigned a temp position on the MCRT when need be. He was reading through the case files, glasses adorning his face.

"Morning", Gibbs called over, taking a sip from his coffee. Things really had changed.

Both Tony and McGee instantly dove behind their desks, retrieving badges, guns and backpacks. Tony nodded towards Gibbs. "You up for some good old _howcatchem_?"

Gibbs merely put the folder down and slipped the drawer to his right open, taking out a gun that looked more like one of his spares than NCIS issue. He cocked his head to the side. "You think, DiNozzo?"

Tony simply turned, spearheading their little group on their track to the elevator and down to the garage. Still, he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

><p>They did not expect this to turn into any kind of end fight with the terrorist group, and they did not expect to get too much out of it either. Any perp that was as skilled and circumspect as Arik's group had been up to this point, they would know perfectly well that a minimally encrypted transmitter would eventually get traced back to them. Consequently, they did not expect to encounter a single living soul in that warehouse. Despite this, however, they kept to the protocol. They did a preliminary scan of the building upon arrival: a massive concrete structure with brick inlays, but forlorn-looking, broken windows, abandoned neighborhood, encased by bigger and busier buildings on each side. They geared up with bulletproof wests and drew their guns. Tony went in ahead of the other two, and in cautious step-by-step motions they first secured the bottom floor and then continued on the upper floor.<p>

"Clear!", McGee called out, declaring the warehouse secure as he returned from a small compartment on the other side of the room, his gun already holstered.

Tony had barely registered his words. The room lay open and empty before them except for a small table, the only furniture in the room, that stood right in front of one of the windows. "Will you look at that", he snorted, alerting the other two.

Stepping up to him, both McGee and Gibbs realized what the sardonic edge in Tony's voice had been about. Lying on the table, in the midst of nothingness, was a transmitter device, a small tablet computer, which gleamed with a map of Washington DC and read _'No signal'_ at the bottom left. That they had expected. However, the transmitter wasn't alone. Next to it on the table they found a rifle of about 44 inches in length with the telescope taken off. Tony didn't even want to venture a guess as to what that rifle had been used for.

"A message", Gibbs grumbled. Tony nodded, his eyes still fixed on the rifle.

"Tony", McGee piped up suddenly, his voice sounding strangely choked.

Tony looked up at him. He wasn't met by McGee's eyes, however, but by the other agent pointing out of the window. Tony followed his line of vision and felt himself blink rapidly. A six-pointed _Star of David_ was displayed above the big double-door entrance to the building opposite the warehouse.

"A synagogue", McGee asserted. His eyes dropped to the table once more. Exactly. The rifle was pointing right at it.

* * *

><p>After David and Tony had left, Ziva had set out on the intricate mission of waking up her daughter. However, Tali had been game from the moment on Ziva had declared today a <em>'special day'<em> because she didn't have to go to school and instead would get to go on a shopping trip with her mother, before spending the rest of the day at NCIS. Ziva knew right well that the five-year-old would get very tired of her _'special day'_ by the time it would simply last too long for her own liking, so she chose to enjoy every minute of quality time with her daughter. They got breakfast on the way, Tali talking excitedly about her life all the way as she was skipping along beside her mother. Ziva realized that she had spent way too little time with her little girl lately, a considerable number of Tali's stories being news to her.

They had started their little spree with the necessities, getting Tali's costume and, following long negotiations, about a quarter of the accessories the five-year-old had imagined for it. Betty - Wilson, self-appointed queen of the PTA - had given her the address of a specific store that was offering the school a sizable discount for furnishing their school plays. What Ziva hadn't known, however, was that alterations were not covered. So, when the guy at the store had asked Ziva if she would do the alterations necessary at home, Ziva had chosen not to take it personally, and had instead continued their trip at the place she usually trusted to do alterations for them.

When mother and daughter sat down for lunch, quite a variety of bags was occupying the spare seats next to them; not only full of new clothes for Tali, but also for David and a few shirts for Tony. While the latter did love shopping, David wasn't as enthusiastic about it. Joint family trips to the mall thus usually resulted in Tony entertaining their son and issuing the odd comment, while Ziva would do the shopping. Then, of course, Tony also spent quite an amount of time returning the stuff Ziva would get him as an excuse to go shopping by himself. Any way you turned it, however, Ziva had never expected to ever experience a day like that; she had never expected to ever get there.

As the afternoon settled in, food was being digested and they neared Tali's naptime, however, the little girl grew ever more irritable. Most days, yes, a mid-afternoon nap was needed in Tali's case. They still had to swing by Dr. Bennett's office on their way to the Navy Yard, and Ziva had no idea how long that would take. She appreciated her little girl's effort to keep up without much fussing, but the worn-out look on her daughter's face became ever more apparent as well.

So, as a little treat for her compliance they eventually stopped over at the candy vendor at the playground only a few blocks from their apartment. During the warmer months they would spend, if possible, almost every day there - either Sarah with the kids or, if things were slow enough, Ziva and Tony themselves. The vender didn't even need to be told Tali's favorite ice cream anymore, she had scooped it into the cone even before Ziva and Tali had agreed on buying the bright orange ball that was hanging on the side of the cart. Ziva, wresting the promise out of Tali to share the ball with David, eventually caved and bought it. She sighed inwardly as she watched her little girl start volleying it around in her hands: She had become a sucker for these small moments of wonderment, there was no need denying it.

Ziva turned back around for a moment to retrieve her purse, when suddenly Tali's right arm wasn't fast enough coordinating with her left and the ball fell to the ground, rolling a few feet away from her. Tali's brown eyes instantly shot up at her mother, but Ziva seemed immersed in conversation with the woman behind the cart. Tali then looked over at the ball and back at Ziva, repeating that process three more times before she decided the ball was reasonably close not to be violating her mother's _'Stay close'_-mantra.

The five-year-old quickly and quietly lunged after the neon-colored toy, but before she could reach it, a different hand had already picked it up. Tali skidded to a halt, her look befuddled. She stared up at the woman clad in a black overcoat.

The woman smiled at the little girl, offering her the ball. "Here."

"No talkin' to stwangers", Tali repeated her parents' words dutifully, taking another step backwards, her eyes briefly darting towards her mother.

"I am not a stranger."

"Tali!", Ziva called out to her daughter, an abundance of bags in the one and an ice cream cone in the other hand.

Tali immediately ran back to her mother. She took the cone and then quickly grabbed Ziva's free hand, holding on tightly. Her eyes narrowed, Ziva looked between her daughter and the orange ball lying on the grass a few feet from them. No one else was around. "What was that?", Ziva asked the little girl a little more sternly than she had intended.

Tali looked up at her mother with innocently widened eyes, remnants of strawberry-red ice cream already framing her mouth. "I dropped the ball and- and I wanted to get it, 'cause it's new and it- it wasn't far, but… But the woman took it first", she rambled, emphatically defending her decision.

Together they went over to the ball and Ziva found herself spin around, a feeling of unease spreading in her stomach. "What woman, tateleh?"

"The stwange woman that was no stwanger", Tali declared, scrunching her forehead up in confusion.

"Did she say that she was no stranger?", Ziva inquired absently, handing the ball back to her daughter.

Tali nodded. "Why's she say that?"

Ziva took another look around, even though she knew it was entirely futile. She sighed and they turned around, setting out for the car. "I wish I knew…"

* * *

><p>Ziva had entered the elevator on the ground floor with Tali holding her hand, but by the time she stepped out of the elevator and into the squadroom the little girl had already been hoisted onto her mother's hip. Tali had her arms folded on top of Ziva's shoulder and her head situated sideways on top of her arms, giving Ziva a great view of the little girl's drooping eyelids. Ziva was already forming plans and backup plans to provide her daughter with a place to nap sometime soon, when her eyes fell on Tony pacing up and down the bullpen, a sour look on his face. She knew they had gone into the field following the transmitter lead, Tony had sent her a quick message to keep her posted. There was a reason why she didn't like to have the kids around when they were working cases. She just hoped Tony would notice their five-year-old daughter early enough to spare the little girl his frustrated tirades.<p>

Then again, she needn't have worried about that. The moment Tony's eyes fell on his little girl wrapped into her mother's embrace a grin spread across his face and his arms shot out. "There's my princess", he called out, instantly getting Tali's eyes to flicker open, imbuing her with new enthusiasm.

"Daddy!"

Tali practically jumped out of Ziva's arms and into Tony's, throwing herself into a detailed account of their shopping trip for her father and half of the squadroom to hear. Ziva knew that surge of energy would only be short-lived, but setting her backpack down behind her desk, starting up her computer and meanwhile watching father and daughter half-dance around the bullpen in their usual repartee - those moments easily made her day.

When McGee entered the bullpen, he gave Ziva a knowing smile, his eyes pointing towards his boss and the little girl that seemed equipped with the precious gift of appeasing every bout of frustration and every ounce of anger. Noticing his Senior Field Agent, Tony spun himself around, Tali still perched quite happily in his arms, and shot McGee a questioning glance. McGee, however, merely shook his head, and for a second Tony's smile slipped and a pensive look settled in his eyes.

"Give me a second. I just dug up his old personnel files", McGee added quickly, taking a seat behind his desk opposite Ziva's. "That'll get you his CO's name."

"Thanks."

Ziva had followed their exchange, but she definitely lacked some of the details to pin down all that had just been said. She finally got up and stepped up to Tony. Tali's energy was obviously waning again by now, her head already having made contact with Tony's shoulder and her eyelids flickering open and shut with drowsiness. Ziva offered her daughter a sympathetic smile and reached out a hand to brush back some of Tali's curls from the little girl's face. The five-year-old instantly took a hold of her mother's hand, holding it close against Tony's chest.

Ziva then glanced up at Tony, a myriad of questions in her eyes. "Always one step ahead of us, this Arik guy", Tony mumbled, the look in his eyes hardening. "Sent a forensics team to sweep the place, but they've come up empty so far." Ziva nodded her head, waiting to get the full story and all its gruesome details - judging from Tony's demeanor, there was much more to it -, when Tali was far out of earshot.

"Major Gabriel Scott", McGee called out at once, catching both Tony's and Ziva's attention. "Address on your phones."

Tony and Ziva shared a look, then turned their heads in unison to look at Tali. By now, the little girl was half-asleep, her father's chest serving as her mattress, her mother's hand as the pillow. They hesitated for a second.

"You go, I'll take her", Gibbs offered suddenly, entering the bullpen.

Ziva turned around, a grateful smile on her face. Gibbs merely winked at her. While she went behind her desk to retrieve her gear, Tony carefully placed Tali in Gibbs' arms. The little girl quietly protested against being shifted around so suddenly, but she quickly settled back against Gibbs, her eyes already closing.

"See you in a little while, neshomeleh", Ziva said, leaning up to brush a small kiss against her daughter's temple before allowing Tony to lead her towards the elevator.

"Come on princess, let's find you something more comfy to sleep on than me", Gibbs whispered into Tali's ear, steering himself towards the stairs.

Tali sighed contently, caught up in half-sleep. "'kay, 'kay", she mumbled.

The two of them then left McGee with a big knowing smile on his face.

* * *

><p>"Jared Cooper. That's a name I haven't heard in a while", Major Scott answered upon Tony's very to-the-point question.<p>

They were sitting in Scott's office, a massive desk separating Tony and Ziva from the grey-haired man in uniform on the other side. Bookshelves were lining one wall, a big globe taking up most of the other.

"Well, he's been dead for thirty years", Tony retorted.

"But maybe you can remember a few details about him", Ziva put in, sitting up a bit straighter in her chair.

"Oh, I remember Cooper alright", Scott half-laughed, folding his arms in front of him. "But not because he was that memorable a Marine."

"No?"

Scott shook his head decidedly. "Not at all. But something made him an invaluable asset to every operation."

"And what's that?"

"He wasn't the best shot, he wasn't the most fierce or dedicated, the best trained or a leader in any sense of the word", Scott explained, leaning forward. "But he had a way with people. He managed supply chains and kept up communication channels between soldiers and locals alike. If you needed anything or anyone, Cooper was the go-to guy."

"Would you say that this was an…_admirable_ talent?", Ziva inquired tentatively.

A smirk tugged at Scott's lips when he realized what she was getting at. "Well, not to speak ill of the dead, but if I were to be frank with you, Ma'am, Cooper was a conniving and manipulative son of a bitch", he said, obviously meaning every word of it. "I wouldn't be surprised if he found some less admirable outlets for his talents."

Tony nodded, having expected something to that effect. "Anything else that comes to mind?"

"Cooper could have been dishonorably discharged at least a dozen times, but he never was", Scott asserted, a frown settling on his face. "I guess, that tells you a lot about who Sergeant Cooper was, Agents."

"Anything more concrete than that?", Tony recommenced.

Scott vaguely shook his head. "Last time I heard of him rumor was he got mixed up in some FBI operation. That's all I know."

Tony's and Ziva's eyes met in a knowing glance after thanking Scott for his time and leaving his office. Tony instantly dialed the number of Gibbs' cell, asking his former boss with knowing insistence to use his sweet-talkin' nature and the leverage he had on Fornell to secure them any kind of shortcut through inter-agency and FBI bureaucracy. After all, it had been Gibbs who had introduced Fornell to the wife he now intended to keep for the rest of his life. When Gibbs had grumbled his okay, Tony hung up and started the engine.

"Tali?", Ziva asked immediately.

"With Abby now", Tony answered quickly, inching his way out of the parking lot.

Tony spent the best part of their half-hour journey back to NCIS headquarters filling Ziva in on the details of what they had found in the warehouse. She hadn't been surprised by the transmitter-find, but she had grown very pensive hearing about the sniper rifle and the synagogue. It further consolidated the very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Tony quickly tried to change the topic by asking about Ziva's take on her shopping trip with Tali. However, it took Ziva only three minutes to recount the happy-go-lucky part of it, before she went on to contemplating the stranger who had talked to Tali and who had introduced herself as not-a-stranger after all. Afterwards they remained silent for the rest of the ride, both deeply lost in thought.

When they arrived back in the squadroom Ziva called Abby straightaway, informing her that they were back and would take Tali off her hands. In the meantime, they gave McGee a heads-up, as a result of which he decided to start trying to circumvent a few channels and get at some of the stuff not even Fornell could provide them with. Yes, Tobias Fornell had turned into one of the FBI's high-ranking spearheads, but he was also a year short of retirement. There were limits even to his range of access and they needed to cover all their bases.

When Abby entered the bullpen with Tali hot on her heels, the little girl had obviously made good use of her afternoon nap. The bounce in her step was back, her features had brightened and she lunged herself at Ziva's legs.

"Did you have a good nap, tateleh?", Ziva chuckled at her daughter, scooping Tali up into her arms.

Tali nodded her head enthusiastically. "Up-up with d'ector Vance", she boasted, throwing her hands up and pumping the air twice to emphasize the fact she had been upstairs; a most unusual occurrence. "And then I stayed with Auntie Abby and her 'chines, but I didn't touch 'em and I tried to keep quiet 'cause Auntie Abby was workin'. Promise." Once again, she nodded her head for emphasis.

"Good job, princess", Tony praised, unable to suppress his laugh, and planted a kiss on his daughter's forehead.

Abby shared a brief smile with McGee. "In the meantime I processed the…uh…_thing_ you found." Instantly, Ziva's eyes shot up at her best friend, an alarmed expression on her face. "Don't worry, Tali was playing in my office. I kept an eye on her. Didn't see a thing", Abby reassured her quickly. Ziva's expression softened, putting on a grateful smile.

"So?", Tony inquired, urging her to reveal what she had found.

"It's an M39 EMR", Abby explained.

"Semi-automatic, gas-operated, designated marksman", Ziva added, inducing a nod from Abby.

"So, it's the thing we thought it was?", McGee asked from where he was busily typing away at his keyboard once more. Abby nodded again.

"It matched the slug?", Tony reiterated, wanting to be sure.

Before Abby could answer, however, Tali's head had jerked up. Up until now she had, in lack of anything else to do, started playing with the _Magen David_ pendant around Ziva's neck. She had abandoned it upon hearing her father's question, though, and was now looking at her mother, sporting a look of pure disgust.

"Eww! Why's daddy talkin' 'bout slimy snails?", she asked, a small shudder running through her body. Around her, all the adults suddenly broke out in laughter, but Tali didn't understand what she had said to set it off. Her expression turned from disgust to confused irritation.

Ziva, noticing her daughter's look, opened her mouth to speak, but Tony beat her to it. "Because a bad guy lost them", he explained, his eyes actually becoming serious.

"There's a bad guy?", Tali shot back quietly.

Ziva could feel the five-year-old slightly tense up in her arms. "Tony-"

"Don't you worry, princess", he went on, sounding no less serious and determined, "Because he lost the slimy snails, we'll go and catch him and put him away, so he can't be bad anymore. Promise."

Tony held out his pinky to cast a pinky-promise. Tali readily offered her own pinky finger to make it official, mirroring the smile on her father's face. However, that smile quickly evaporated and she linked her arms around Ziva's neck, resting her head against her mother's chest and covering half of her face with Ziva's jacket. Ziva tilted her head forward, brushing a kiss against her daughter's forehead, and started swaying slightly from one side to the other. All the while her eyes didn't leave Tony's as she fixed him with a glare. She could understand his frustrated determination but this, in her opinion, had been uncalled-for. Tony, however, looked back at her with unyielding resolve.

Abby and McGee briefly shared a look, but both chose to keep out of it. Instead, Abby quickly picked up the thread of their previous conversation. "I didn't find anything else on it except for small traces of saliva in the chamber, like _really_ small", she said, her voice more somber than before. "I also checked the logs of the arms deal Johnston had registered in his files. An M39 was part of the delivery."

"Same guy, same group", McGee summarized.

Ziva offered the situation a curt nod. "Come on, Tali, mommy needs some fresh air", she whispered to her daughter, eliciting a smile with her smile and already on her way to the elevator. Tony hesitated for just a second before following them, making it through the closing elevator doors just in time.

Abby released a small sigh. "And what about our kid?", McGee asked eventually, a pointed smile on his face.

"Cameron came over, they went to the park together", Abby informed him. "She's feeling way better."

McGee nodded a nod of relief, while Abby turned into all directions from her spot in the middle of the bullpen. When she didn't see anybody else exceptt for the two of them, she took two steps towards McGee's desk and leaned over his computer screen, catching his lips in a short moment of affection amid a busy day. When she pulled back, a grin had settled on her face. Turning around, her pigtails swaying with the motion, she left the bullpen as well. And McGee was left to return to his previous task, once again a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Tony, Ziva and Tali had arrived at the swing set. Close to Gibbs' preferred coffee cart there was a small patch of lawn, three tall Japanese cherry trees taking up most of it. In their shade, though, a swing set had been put up, probably to accommodate agents' kids or kids in general if they happened to be at the Navy Yard. Ziva had perched herself on the small wall where she had always gone to think about things. She was watching Tony push a squealing Tali ever higher, only a small footpath separating her from them. She felt herself smile at the happy laughter coming from her daughter. Tony, on the other hand, kept shooting her swift glances, but Ziva ignored them all, keeping her eyes trained on the five-year-old who appeared to have forgotten all about bad guys and slimy snails.<p>

When McGee joined them briefly to inform them that new intel had just arrived in the bullpen via Gibbs, Ziva had sent Tali, albeit pouting at having her fun game interrupted so suddenly, along with her uncle while she stopped Tony short from following them right away.

"Tali might have forgotten about it by now, but I have not", she commenced at once, her eyes narrowed.

"Look Ziva, I'm sorry, okay?", Tony retorted. "I wasn't thinking."

"No, you clearly were not", she repeated slowly, already turning around.

Tony, however, held her back by the arm. "Just so we're clear, I'm sorry that it scared her. But I'm not sorry about what I said. I will gladly promise her that we'll catch those bastards every day of her life."

Ziva's look remained unyielding. "You were frightening her."

Tony snorted. "I was reassuring her."

Ziva's eyebrows shot up, forming an incredulous expression. "You think that telling her that bad guys are on the loose somewhere around us is reassuring?"

"What? You think she doesn't know there are bad guys around?", Tony shot back, feeling himself get riled up by the look on Ziva's face. "Then you're kidding yourself, Ziva. Everybody everywhere is always talking about bad guys. Believe me, she knows."

"There's a difference when her own father tells her that", Ziva exclaimed, her voice dangerously low.

Tony took a step towards her. "I just want her to know that we'll keep her safe."

"And _I_ want her to know that she _is_ safe", Ziva countered.

He looked at her, hard, for a few moments, then he straightened back up. "I guess, we'll have to agree to disagree on this."

"I guess so", she established, finally turning around and going back inside, Tony a few feet behind her.

* * *

><p>When they came back into the bullpen, they found Gibbs and McGee already waiting for them. Gibbs instantly picked up on the tension between the pair, the spatial tension of a few feet separating them from each other only one indicator to that effect. He gave Tony a probing look, but the younger agent deftly ignored him. Ziva, on the other hand, chose to seize McGee with a questioning stare.<p>

"Abby took Tali along on her _CafPow_ run", McGee said quickly. Ziva nodded.

"Fornell says Cooper was about to become the prime target in a major strike against illegal arms trade following the Cold War", Gibbs relayed, deeming it best to just cut to the chase.

"So Cooper was an arms dealer?"

"Yeah, but _Godfather_ proportions arms dealer", McGee clarified, eliciting a small smile from Tony. "I managed to access the transcripts of the testimonies leading up to the FBI coup. They basically shelved the whole operation when Cooper was killed. I'm going through them now."

"Has Fornell given us anything else?", Ziva inquired.

"I paid for dinner, so he better have", Gibbs smirked, pointing towards Tony's and her desk respectively. When they turned around, they found piles of paper filling four crates each. "Case files of all related cases. Anything before 1995 isn't digital, though."

Ziva and Tony were both instantly rooted to the floor beneath them, with their mouths gaping slightly open. Ziva, in particular, couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt spread through her body when her eyes fell on Tali and Abby approaching the bullpen, back from their _CafPow_ trip. It would have been easier if she could have spent her evening writing up reports; it would have been easier to take breaks from that and divide her attention between work and Tali. Having to go through those case files would actually demand all the focus she could muster.

"I'll take her till Tony leaves", Gibbs offered again, yanking Ziva from her thoughts.

"Thank you."

He gave her a small smile and a nod, already plucking Tali out of Abby's arms before they had even made it as far as the bullpen. Ziva and Tony could hear their daughter's giggles grow fainter as she vanished with Gibbs somewhere beyond the break room. Usually, they would have shared a smile now, but today was turning out to be different. They barely glanced at each other before each took a seat behind their respective desk and got to work on one of the crates. McGee and Abby, on the other hand, shared a shrug over their friends' strange behavior before Abby left for the lab and McGee went back to browsing through the FBI transcripts.

The rest of their afternoon didn't consist of more variation than that either. Sometimes one of them would pipe up with the odd comment, gripe or piece of information, but other than that the bullpen remained rather silent for a Wednesday afternoon. Abby was the first to come in and say goodbye, calling it an early day. She named Liora as the reason, but Ziva knew that was only part of it. Abby leaving earlier also meant that she had silently agreed to McGee staying later. For a second there, Ziva wanted to protest, but then her eyes fell on the first crate of paper, which she had not yet read half of after hours of work, and she couldn't bring herself to.

By the time Tony shut off his computer, and Gibbs arrived to hitch a ride with him to go pick up David and spend the rest of the afternoon with the little boy and his father, the info they had gathered on Jared Cooper thus far was mediocre: Apparently, the FBI-investigation in the Cooper Case had been set off by a middle-rate arms dealer, an associate of Cooper's, giving up Cooper's name in an effort to reduce his own time. Cooper, in comparison, had been a big shot in the arm's trade all over the Middle Eastern region in the 1980s and early 1990s. He had been stationed there on various occasions and tours, so it probably hadn't been hard for him to establish contacts, routes and routines. The FBI had even assembled travel logs during their investigations, placing Cooper in a number of cities in the Middle East long after his deployment there. How FBI had ended up with jurisdiction on the Cooper Case, they had no hope of deducing anyway. Ziva certainly felt somewhat vindicated in that Cooper now at least appeared to have posed a threat to Israel's national security, given that he was making a living as one of the prime subliminal sustainers of the wars and the tensions in the region.

Gibbs leaving with Tony, however, also meant that Tali had finally run out of people to look after her - that is, except for her own mother, who right now was very busy working. Ziva and McGee had both taken Tali on short trips outside on two separate occasions, but eventually darkness had fallen and both agents still weren't nearly finished - or at least at a point where they could call it quits in good conscience.

Almost an hour ago Ziva had set Tali up at the free desk with paper and crayons and all sorts of office supplies. The little girl had been fine for a while but, glancing over at her daughter now, Tali was getting wearier by the minute. Her elbow propped up on the desk, she was resting her head in her hand, but it seemed she was having a hard time keeping it upright regardless. There was no direction or objective to the way she was guiding the pencil across the page anymore. She appeared to be doing it just to be doing something. A sympathetic smile crept onto Ziva's face. She seriously contemplated calling Tony to come and pick her up, but he had only been gone for two hours and it was David's turn at one-on-one time with one of his parents. In all honesty, Ziva just wanted to go over there, scoop Tali up into her arms and go home with her little girl. Life just didn't work that way sometimes, though.

A few minutes later, Ziva was just re-reading a particularly complex paragraph on the subject of Cooper's known associates, when she felt somebody tugging at her sleeve. When she looked down, Tali was standing next to her, a blank expression on her face. Ziva merely pushed herself back in her chair and offered Tali a hand in climbing up. Tali was soon kneeling in Ziva's lap and, cocking her head to the side, released a heavy sigh that drove a smile to Ziva's face. She linked her arms behind her daughter's back, watching her curiously.

"Are you done soon?", Tali whispered, shooting her Uncle McGee a quick glance to see whether she was disturbing him while he was working. McGee, however, made it a point to appear particularly immersed in something, only looking up to offer Ziva a brief smile when she caught a glimpse at him over Tali's head.

"I know you are bored, neshomeleh", Ziva said, brushing a few curls away from Tali's forehead. "But it will still be a while until we can go home."

Once again Tali sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping down. "I wanna go home", she croaked, tears now visibly building up in her chocolate brown eyes.

"I know, tateleh", Ziva admitted, resting her forehead against her daughter's. "And I know you are tired. But you have been a really big girl today and I am very proud of you."

Tali answered her mother's kiss with a tired smile. Ziva then skillfully re-arranged the five-year-old in her lap, placing her sideways against her chest. "Stay?", Tali sighed, getting comfortable as she placed her head against Ziva's shoulder.

"Yes, tateleh, you are staying with mommy now", Ziva whispered, gently swaying from side to side.

After a while Tali's eyelids slipped shut completely and the five-year-old grew heavy and limp in Ziva's arms. She still remained unmoving for a few minutes longer until McGee offered to spread out the blanket they kept in one of the empty desk drawers just in case. Ziva nodded appreciatively, handing him her coat to mold into a makeshift pillow, before gently placing Tali on the floor next to her desk. She crouched down beside her daughter, making sure Tali didn't wake and was comfortable enough, gratefully accepting McGee's coat and tucking it in around her daughter as a makeshift blanket.

When Ziva was sure Tali was out cold, she returned to the paper she had been reading, heaving a soft sigh. No, it wasn't easy, but they managed. Once again, another half-hour trickled by in silence until McGee came across something he felt Ziva should see. He quietly beckoned her over to his desk, showing her a newspaper clipping he had just found. Heading and tagline were about a fire in an old factory building, the article was dated from 1980. Ziva looked at McGee questioningly.

"According to the transcripts, Cooper took over shop from someone called Marlowe Grady as the Mid-Eastern go-to arms dealer", McGee explained, keeping his voice down. "Following Grady's sudden death in a fire in 1980."

"Maybe Cooper killed him", Ziva mused.

"Possible."

Ziva nodded vaguely, returning to the article. There it was, in the first paragraph, Marlowe Grady's name as well as the name of a man who had died alongside him and who the article identified as a high-ranking Palestinian official-

Ziva almost chocked on her own breath, startled.

McGee, alerted by the strange grunt coming from Ziva, looked up at her. She didn't look back at him, though. Instead, she seemed transfixed with shock, her eyes stuck to the screen, and the article. McGee followed her line of vision and started re-reading the article. He had only skimmed through it before. When he noticed a familiar name, he chose to read it out loud, "Farouk Haswari. Where do I-"

"_Haswari_, McGee", Ziva clarified in a hoarse whisper. "Ari's grandfather. Grady was killed in a fire together with Ari's grandfather."


	23. Crescendo - Part I

**Chap 23 Crescendo - Part** I  
><em>Doors to Another-World<em>

**Wednesday, March 31****st**** 2021 - **_**continued**_

For a few moments a storm of emotions had broken loose within Ziva. Things were starting to hit too close, coming too close, closing in on her. Ari's grandfather. She had never known him, obviously. 1980. That's the year Ari was born. She tried to remember if she had ever heard her brother talk about his grandfather, if he had kept any records, or memories. But her mind had come up blank. Blood had started rushing through her body, leaving her almost deaf to the world. She had blinked, once, twice. Then the blood-rush had stopped. Her vision had cleared. Her eyes had fallen on Tali's sleeping form a few feet from her. This was not the time and place to lose it.

McGee had patiently waited for her to ride it out, looking up at her expectantly. Yet, she had had little to tell him. Instead, they had wrapped up their work day very quickly after that, gathered up their things, and Tali, and bid tentative goodbyes in the parking lot.

When Ziva entered the apartment, she found it lying dark and quiet before her. She couldn't help it, she felt relieved. She dropped her backpack and the shopping bags by the door and only moved to turn on the floor lamp on her way upstairs, Tali in her arms, relishing the lack of blinding lights. In the little girl's room she gently peeled the clothes off of her, mumbling sweet nothingness into the five-year-old's ear in an effort not to yank her out of well-earned slumber. She tucked her in and switched on the fairy lamp. She brushed a sweet kiss against her forehead before stepping out of her room, leaving the door slightly ajar. She stopped out in the hall, halting for a second to breathe and place a hand against her forehead. That's when she heard the front door open and shut, faint chatter emerging from the foyer.

She met up with David and Tony at the end of the hall, on top of the stairs. Ziva responded to her son's greeting with a soft smile, before she turned to look at her partner, her gaze rigid with seriousness. "We need to talk", she declared simply, her demeanor and low voice not allowing for anything but his ready compliance.

Tony knew instantly that this wasn't about the fight they had had before. Sure, they had left things not exactly dealt-with. On his way out of the office he had kissed and cuddled with his little girl; Ziva and he had barely looked at each other. But this seemed like more than that. Ziva wouldn't corner him like that, and in front of David, if it were just for that.

"Why don't you go and take a shower. Just leave your clothes by the hamper", Tony suggested, giving the eight-year-old a pointed look that David readily understood.

"But try to be quiet, Tali is already asleep in her room", Ziva added, glancing down at her son.

The little boy didn't budge for a second, alternating his gaze between his parents. His dad had turned back to look at his mom and, he realized, he had never seen them look at each other quite that way before. He had to admit, it scared him a little. So, he quickly set out towards the bathroom and made it a point to make a sound while opening the door and closing it behind him. He waited for his parents' voices to surge and when they did, he re-opened the door, slowly and carefully, so they wouldn't notice. Through the crack he watched them. He couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but he could hear the tone of their voices alright, their gestures and the looks in their eyes. It was enough for him to gather that it wasn't good.

The moment they had heard David close the door of the bathroom Tony asked in a low voice, "What's so urgent?"

Ziva folded her arms in front of her chest. "Cooper took over from someone named Marlowe Grady after Grady had been killed in a factory fire", Ziva stated evenly.

Tony nodded, taking it in. "So what?", he rebuffed. "Poor little arms dealer."

Her eyes narrowed noticeably. "He was killed together with a Palestinian politician named Farouk Haswari."

Once again, Tony simply nodded along, trying to wrap his mind around what she was telling him and trying to discern the enormity of it that he was expecting by now. But there it was. "Has-Haswari?", he repeated, stumbling over the name. "As in-"

"As in _Ari_ Haswari, yes", Ziva confirmed, squaring her shoulders against her own words. "My brother's maternal grandfather."

A derisive chuckle left Tony's lips, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "And what does that mean?"

"I don't know." Ziva slightly shook her head.

"I mean, I don't get it. Does this involve you? Us?", Tony led on, his tone bordering on a frustrated growl. "What does it mean?"

"I do not know", Ziva repeated, pressing the words out through gritted teeth this time. "I will write to Iyov. Maybe he knows more about it. Maybe Nettie knew something, or mentioned something." Oh, how she wished Nettie was still alive and she could just call and hear her aunt's calming voice.

"Okay", Tony relented. For the first time, then, his gaze softened. He studied his partner's face. "You okay?" They might have had a fight, yes, but he cared; nothing would ever make him stop caring.

Ziva shook her head decidedly. "Yes, Tony, I am fine." Before he could utter a word in protest to the recoil he had heard thousands of times in the past, and had since learned to ignore, she added, "I put David's pajamas with the laundry. You will have to get out new ones."

With that she vanished behind the door to the study, leaving Tony to come to terms with the new turn of events. He remained in the hallway, staring, yet refusing to let it sink in just now. Instead, he moved to get his son a new pair of pajamas. In the bathroom, however, David hadn't even started showering yet. Tony eyed his son suspiciously and asked him if he had eavesdropped on their conversation. David heartily denied it, but the guilty expression on his son's face told Tony all that he needed to know. Tony knew right well that David couldn't have made much sense of their words even if he had heard everything. Still, an uneasy feeling spread in the pit of Tony's stomach and quite suddenly he thought, maybe Ziva had had a point.

A few minutes later, already having brushed his teeth, David was standing in the hallway with his hand on the doorknob to his room. The water was running in the bathroom. His dad was in the shower. He looked over at the door to the study. He knew his mom was in there. He looked back at the bathroom door. He knew his dad had said not to disturb his mom and to get ready for bed, but the water was still running. His dad was still in the shower...

Without wasting another thought on it, David trotted up to the door to the study and gently pushed it open. He quickly slipped through it and closed it again behind him. Inside, he was met by his mother's curious stare, her eyebrows shooting upwards. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a notebook in her lap, a stack of books beside her.

Ziva glanced at the clock on the bottom right of her screen. "It is almost your bedtime, tateleh", she said, watching him take a few steps into the room. "I would have come to say goodnight."

David nodded vaguely, but didn't turn around either. Rather, he took the remaining steps to the couch and sat down next to her, careful not to drop any of the books in the process. "Are you working?", he asked slowly, catching a glimpse of the screen. He recognized the Hebrew symbols all over.

It didn't take long for it to dawn on Ziva that this wasn't about goodnight kisses and bedtimes. She slightly turned in her position, so she could get a better look at her son. "I am writing to my cousin Iyov", she answered vaguely, indicating Iyov's name, plotted in square script, in the header of the email she was currently writing up, and elicited a nod from her son.

She waited for a moment, but David gave no indication as to wanting to build on that piece of information. Knowing her son, then, Ziva continued writing and focused back on her computer, allowing the eight-year-old to figure out what exactly he had come in here for - except for wanting to spend time with his mom, which Ziva guessed could only have been part of the reason.

For some time it looked as if he was wrecking his brain for a memory, or an idea, or the right words. His brows furrowed, and his emerald eyes gained a distant look. Ziva had a hard time not to chuckle at the way he had painted concentration and focus all over his face whenever she caught a glimpse of him.

"You said no accidents anymore", he piped up suddenly, a small sigh hanging on his lips. "You didn't promise no bad men anymore."

Ziva was taken aback by his sudden assertion, choosing to close the half-written email for the time being and switching her computer to standby mode. She folded it and placed it on the couch next to her with the books, pondering her answer all the while, and turned, leaning up against the armrest of the couch, to face her son fully now.

She remembered her promise from two years ago; promising her son that there wouldn't be any more accidents. She had felt guilty about making that promise even then, but thinking back now and thinking how scared and distraught the then six-year-old had been for weeks after the Rikers Case, it had been the right thing to do. It had taken David quite a while to get over all that had happened back then. When Ziva had been well enough again to go back to work, her sternum and ribs healed, the bones in her arm re-set, David had broken down in full-out hysterics. Only then had they fully realized how little time he had spent separated from her during her leave of absence. It had been different with Tali. Tali had always been vocal about wanting to stay close to Ziva, had slept in her parents' bed almost every night, had dragged Ziva along to every game in every room, and had had her read story after story after story until she had finally succumbed to sleep. David, on the other hand, had been much quieter about it, had made sure Ziva was at least around somewhere, had made up extra Hebrew homework to spend more one-on-one time with her, and had forgone many of McGee's or Gibbs' invitations in favor of staying home with his mother. With him, as was often the case, things were much more subtle and, as was often the case, it took him longer to come to terms with things. By then, it hadn't been hard for Ducky to make them quietly aware of a variant of separation anxiety that David seemed much more prone to than Tali.

Then again, Ziva realized now, maybe Tony did have a point as well. Safety might not always be something that she could promise, but it certainly was something she could promise to work for every day of her life as their mother.

"You are right, I cannot promise you that there will not be any bad men out there at times", Ziva offered gently, laughing a little at herself and at how much she was channeling Tony right now - despite their earlier argument. "But it is your father's and my job to put them away. And we are _very_ good at our job."

David thought about this for a second, shifting a little to mirror his mother's position on the couch. "But you're worried. And I thought we said you wouldn't worry anymore", he challenged, narrowing his eyes a little.

Ziva couldn't help but smile at the way her eight-year-old son seemed to have stored their previous conversations at the back of his mind, at the ready for whenever he chose to throw her words back at her. She could only wonder what this would mean for his teenage years. "I thought our deal was that you would not worry anymore either", Ziva countered with a soft smile, guessing correctly the reason for her son's presence.

He mimicked her smile. "I guess we just worry, mom", he sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"I guess so", Ziva half-laughed, eliciting a knowing grin on her son's face.

Once again they fell silent for a while and once again Ziva took to studying her son's expression. When cases weren't as demanding as their current one had turned out to be, mother and son spent more of those evenings where they would fall into a comfortable back-and-forth of silences and apposite questions. Unfortunately, when work took more out of her than usual, it took even more to make time for routine - to the point that she preferred having a cranky daughter at the end of an eventful day to taking away quality time from either of her children.

"Are you and dad fighting?", he asked then, his voice having grown quite small.

"We are not agreeing on something right now", Ziva explained and, she had to admit, in the most cliché manner possible. "But you really do not have to worry about _that_."

David nodded vaguely. "You need to make up soon, though."

"Yes?"

"Uh-huh", he nodded again, more decidedly this time. "'Cause you got to be angry at the bad guys and not at each other, 'cause… Like when I'm mad at Tali and Tali's mad at me we don't get to go to the park until we've made up. It's like that. We miss out on the park, 'cause we're mad about something."

The sheer and utter sincerity in her son's eyes silenced Ziva for a moment or two. She had expected him to say something along the lines of not liking it when his parents were fighting, or it being more fun when they weren't fighting. She hadn't expected to get a life lesson. Then again, you could always expect those things with children in general, but with David in particular.

"You are right, tateleh. We should think about that", she admitted, her smile persisting.

David reinforced his humble opinion with a faint hum. As if ticking off a list of items he wanted to get covered, he continued casually, "Did you get Tali's costume today?"

"Yes, we did", Ziva confirmed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Because Laura Wilson already got hers for- for rehearsals and I think she was mean to Tali 'bout it."

A soft _'Huh'_ slipped from Ziva's lips and she suddenly felt very glad they had seized the opportunity of the water-pipe burst. It was startling, the little things that mattered so greatly in her children's lives. She could have asked her son how he knew that, but she had a pretty good idea anyway. After all, she had witnessed it - mostly undetected, she had to admit - time and time again: Tali and David would be playing with each other, or separately for that matter, and things would just come up naturally, from the way the little girl addressed one of her stuffed animals to the way the little boy chose to react to Tali's small jibes. They were amazingly sensitive towards each other's feelings and behavior; and it drove a big smile to Ziva's face every time.

"How was your afternoon with Uncle Gibbs?", Ziva inquired, loving how much David's features brightened straight away.

"Really, really awesome", he exclaimed, the lingering excitement straightening up his position on the couch. "I showed Uncle Gibbs all my tricks and then dad and I played a little and he was the referee. Dad and Uncle Gibbs even played." A big grin spread on the little boy's face.

Ziva laughed, images popping up before her inner eye. "And who won?"

"Uncle Gibbs, but I think daddy let him, 'cause daddy's really good", he declared, his tone almost reverent. "Uncle Gibbs said he'd build me a goal in his backyard for my birthday."

"Did he now?"

"Uh-huh. Then we can go and play there _all_ the time."

"Seems like we should give him a big thank you for that", Ziva suggested.

"I did, though. I thanked him lots", David retorted quickly, then got lost in his train of thoughts for a moment before piping back up. "But I think we should all go over to his house and have dinner. Like all of us. Auntie Abby and Uncle Tim and Liora too. And Uncle Ducky. And Jimmy and Breena, and little Jimmy. I think he'd like that."

Ziva smiled at her son, feeling a tinge of pride. She couldn't believe how much David sometimes reminded her of her little sister. His deep compassion, his unyielding sensitivity - it was uncanny sometimes. Tali - her daughter, that is - had that too, but in a more physical way. They truly were blessed, Tony and she.

"Yes, I believe he would."

Silence fell again and Ziva, this time around, used it to go through a list of questions for her son that had come up for her in the past weeks, but that she had failed to ask. In the meantime, David's eyes had dropped to scan the books scattered between them. "Is everything okay with you and Tommy?", Ziva inquired eventually.

David didn't look up at her, just mumbled a faint "Uh-huh."

"David?"

When he did roll his eyes up at his mom, her eyebrows had visibly risen above curiosity level. He shrugged vaguely. "I donno. He was…like, _mean_ to me."

Ziva cocked her head to the side. "Is that why you did not want to go to his house to play last week?"

"Dad told you?"

"He did."

Ziva gave him an encouraging smile. Tony had pretty much told her the second she had come home that night. Tommy's mother had called to invite David over, and in turn David had shaken his head so adamantly from where he had been doing his homework at the coffee table that Tony had dutifully made up an excuse and postponed that awkward conversation to a later time. When Tony had asked the eight-year-old about it, however, David had stayed mum about his reasons. That's just the way it was with their little boy. He would come forward in his own time. It also seemed like he didn't feel particularly like sharing now, with Ziva, and she decided not to press the issue any further. She just didn't want her son to feel as if he had to put his own problems on the backburner just because his parents were caught up in a case once again.

"Is this about Tali?", David asked suddenly, blatantly changing the topic. He was pointing at one of the books. The handwritten label was in Hebrew and he had just now made out the name of his sister.

"It is about Tali", Ziva nodded, turning the book in question around, so he could read it more easily. "But not about your little sister, but about _my_ little sister. Your Dodah Tali." A wistful smile settled on Ziva's face as she proceeded to open the book on the first page. There was a handwritten note, Hebrew script, and when she turned to the second page there was a picture of a baby David had never seen before.

Because what David had thought were books, were really photo albums. He checked the labels on the other two books and found _'Ari'_ written on one, and _'Ziva'_ written on the other. "All photos of you and Dodah Tali and Dod Ari?", he asked and Ziva nodded. He turned the page back to the note. "Who wrote that?"

Ziva laughed slightly. "My mother, your grandmother." She gently guided a finger across the letters, remembering how often she had read those words after her mother's death, memorized them even. "She made an album for all three of her children. Saba Eli sent them to me."

Ziva had never possessed many pictures of her childhood. The one she had deemed lost along with the Damocles so many years ago and that Eli had sent her the only copy of despite their difficulties had been the only picture for a very long time. After her mother's death Eli had put a silent ban on all pictures of a past that had been too painful. Ziva remembered sneaking into the library at night in Haifa to retrieve the albums and to read her mother's words and look at the pictures. The very albums that were, as irony would have it, now lying on the couch between her eight-year-old son and herself. She remembered how Eli had found her one night. He had looked positively livid with anger. He had punished her, but no punishment had been as hard as the realization that he had hidden the albums afterwards, possibly thrown them away. Ziva had forgotten all about them throughout the years until a package from Eli had arrived one day, shortly after their trip to Haifa, with those albums in them. He hadn't thrown them away after all. He had kept them.

Ziva hadn't looked at them yet, though. She had come into the study with the very plan to do so tonight, but she didn't know what she had expected. Maybe a picture of Ari and his grandfather, but what good would that have done? How would that help them with their case? Quite possibly, she had simply looked for an excuse to force herself to go through them eventually. Having her son by her side for it, though, seemed like an even better deal now.

"Come here", she beckoned, putting her laptop and the albums on the floor by the couch and opening her arms. David smiled and crawled into her lap, snuggling up against her.

Ziva then reached down and picked up the album labeled _'Ziva'_ and handed it to her son. The little boy opened it on the first page and Ziva, leaning over his shoulder, started reading the note. David tried to translate it on the spot, Ziva helping out with words and constructions that he didn't know. It started with _'My dearest Ziva'_, a dedication of a mother to her child, now read by the daughter to her own son, and the words weren't ringing with any less love and warmth than thirty-eight years ago when they had been written.

They went through the album page by page, starting with pictures of Ziva as a baby with uncanny likeness to her own daughter. It went on with pictures of Ziva as a toddler and as a small child in Israel, riding bikes and climbing trees, running through Haifa gardens and chased by a young Ari, two years her senior, through their townhouse in Tel Aviv. Ziva hardly remembered those times, so foreign did it feel to see herself so carefree, like a life past, a life almost not lived. Then pictures started to include another little girl, Ziva's sister, always surrounded by her older siblings, holding their hands in pictures of first school days, sitting in-between them in pictures of birthdays and anniversaries. Some of the pictures had Eli in them and David couldn't resist pointing out how young his Saba Eli looked in those pictures, how much he smiled; especially when a woman was with him on the pictures that David could not place.

Finally, he decided to just ask. He gently placed a finger on a picture where that woman was holding a bouquet of bright yellow _gagea dayana _out to a grinning, about seven-year-old Ziva. The woman had long auburn hair, falling down her back and sides in elaborate curls, and the most piercing chocolate brown eyes David had ever seen. "Who is this?"

"This is my mother, Eliana", Ziva pointed out.

She gave the picture a long hard look. Up until now she had avoided spending too much time looking too long and too hard at her mother in the pictures, rather distracting herself with recounting stories to her son and moving on to the next pictures. Ziva moved her head back a little so that she wasn't right next to her son's anymore, trying to compose herself before continuing. She knew the pictures with Eliana in them stopped right then anyway and with that, she remembered, the pictures would soon stop altogether. She pressed a kiss to the back of David's head and finally turned the page, returning her son's smile.

She turned the pages a few more times. When they arrived at the picture of the first day of school in 1990, eight-year-old Ziva holding her backpack proudly in one hand and the arm of five-year-old Tali in the other, present-day Ziva remembered it being the last photograph to have made it into the album. About a month after that Eliana had died and following her death little incentive had remained to commemorate life events. Ziva was about to close the album altogether, when David held her back. She frowned at her son, but the little boy simply turned the page and, to her stunned surprise, there was one more picture. She had never seen it before. She had forgotten it even existed.

"Is that you?", David asked, indicating a portrait of Ziva in a long cream-colored dress, locks of hair cascading over her shoulders, with a dark-haired man in a tux by her side. It was Ari, and he looked to be about nineteen, making Ziva in turn about seventeen.

Ziva nodded silently, trying to suppress a tear that was suddenly stinging her eye.

David, to her relief, didn't notice as he was focusing on the picture, seemingly mesmerized. He had never seen a picture of his Dod Ari, or his mom for that matter, in their teenage or adolescent years before. "You look really pretty, mommy", he complimented, turning his head slightly to show her his smile.

"Thank you, tateleh", she said, kissing her son's temple. When was that again? Winter, winter 1999 - her last year of school, before the Army, before Mossad, before Kidon. "We were going to the annual Yule Formal", Ziva explained. "I was expected to go because it was my final year, but I didn't want to. My father would only allow me to go with company, but I wanted to go alone… Certainly not with one of the boys he would have approved of-"

"You could've gone with dad", David suggested, looking at her with bright eyes.

Ziva chuckled slightly. "I did not know your dad back then, tateleh. We met for the first time six years after this photo was taken", she pointed out, realizing how grand these proportions must appear to an eight-year-old.

"So, who'd you take then?"

"Tali really wanted me to go, so she had arranged for Ari to come all the way from Scotland, where he was away at university. For just that weekend to go to the ball with me", Ziva remembered, a wistful smile on her face.

She looked back at the picture. Ari looked so happy, and she did as well, their arms linked, smiling brightly at fourteen-year-old Tali behind the camera. They had been happy, she remembered. Things hadn't been easy, particularly after Eliana's death. Eli had withdrawn and they had only had each other. But sometimes, she could see it clearly in that one picture, it had been enough. She didn't even want to think about what could have been if things hadn't turned out the way they had in the two years following that picture: In 2001 Tali, then sixteen, had been killed in a bombing. Ari and she had both been devastated and livid with grief. And when only months later Ari's biological mother, Hosmoya, had been killed in an Israeli retaliatory strike to Gaza, that was practically when she had lost her brother as well. Even if four more years had still been separating them from that day in Gibbs' basement when she had put a 9x19mm Parabellum cartridge through his head, she had lost Ari long before that. But here, captured in this picture, they were happy.

"Do you see that bucket right there?", Ziva asked David, indicating a small bright-blue speck in the lower left corner of the picture. David nodded. Memories were overtaking her and clouding her good judgment. She was about to fling herself into recounting that story to her son, her mouth already gaping with the first syllable, when she realized, just in time, that she was talking to her eight-year-old.

"Ari and I were both so bad and stubborn when we practiced dancing with each other that we broke a mirror. Tali cleaned it up and put the shards into this bucket. She must have forgotten to put it away before taking the picture."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

David grinned at her, unaware that he had just been blatantly lied to. Yes, it was true that she and Ari had been terrible at dancing with each other. Of course, Ziva had been taking dance lessons from the time she had been four years old and Ari had been trained in ballroom dancing, but they could never decide who was leading whom. And yes, they really had broken a vase when Tali had made them practice, naturally aware of her siblings' incompatibility in that respect. And yes, the bucket in the picture really was filled with shards of glass from a broken mirror. However, its demise was the result of Eli returning from a trip two days early to find his son home and his eldest daughter prepping for the formal. Fights and screaming matches had ensued, and things had always tended to break in these situations.

Finished with Ziva's album, David quickly bent over the edge of the couch and replaced it with the album labeled _'Tali'_. It was both heartbreaking and heart-warming for Ziva to launch into the stories of her beloved little sister; and she knew so many. Memories were gripping her, telling story after story to her son. But, eventually, they did not get very far in the album, because somewhere in the middle of it David had nodded off. Ziva noticed only when the little boy's head fell back against her shoulder. She chuckled slightly to herself, drawing him a little closer. She didn't plan on taking him to his room any time soon. Instead, she slightly swayed from side to side, humming the tune of their favorite Hebrew lullaby.

It was somewhere around that time that Tony quietly opened the door and crept into the room. Ziva noticed him alright, she just chose not to look up at him until he had made his way to the couch. He kneeled down next to her, David still wrapped into her embrace, and folded his arms on top of the upholstery.

"It has been a while since I have held him this way", Ziva remarked suddenly, a smile playing on her lips as she brushed a small kiss against the side of her son's face.

Tony returned her smile, gently stroking his son's arm as it was lying limply on top of Ziva's thigh. "They're growing up way too fast", he acknowledged.

Ziva sighed. "Yes, they are."

They fell silent for a moment, giving Tony the chance to scan their surroundings, the albums and the page still lying open in David's lap, the picture it displayed. It showed a little girl of about ten years, a piece of paper in her hand and her pigtails flying, about to jump into the arms of an older girl, about thirteen or fourteen.

"When's that?", he asked casually, leading Ziva's eyes back to the picture with a jolt of his head.

Ziva nodded. "Tali's last day of primary school", she relayed quietly, her eyes gaining a faraway look. "Our mother was dead, and Eli did not much care for these things. So, Ari and I sneaked away from our own end-of-the-year ceremonies to be there and pick her up. Ari took the picture." She added the last part noticing the absence of her brother in the picture, suddenly remembering how she had glared at him when he had lost himself in self-praise for taking that picture at _'the perfect moment'_, in his own words.

Tony looked at the picture again, harder this time. So it was true, Ziva couldn't have been any older than thirteen years old, but she looked so much older already. She hadn't been kidding when they were talking about having to grow up fast back then. She had been made to grow up, forcefully, by the burden thrust upon her.

"So, how long have you been eavesdropping?", Ziva asked softly, snapping the album shut.

Tony couldn't help but let a smirk drop from his lips. "A while", he retorted vaguely, letting her know that he had probably heard every word. "The mirror didn't break because of your dancing, did it?"

Ziva huffed slightly, shaking her head. "At that time Eli, Ari and me in the same house was a dangerous combination", she explained, a sardonic edge in her voice that gradually softened. "But Tali had stepped in. She had always been a little girl in Ari's and my eyes, but she was so much wiser than all of us. She knew exactly what we were being groomed for and she so wanted us to have that ball, as a memory. That is just the way she was."

Come to think of it, leave it to her little sister to have put that picture in the album despite it being hidden, despite Eli's aversion. It was like a reassuring hand on Ziva's shoulder even from beyond the afterlife.

There was nothing Tony could add. Instead, he gave mother and son a few more minutes in quiet embrace, only David's rhythmical breathing filling the room. "Ready to hand him over?"

Ziva sighed, planting another kiss against her son's hair. "I guess, it cannot last forever", she said, gently placing David into Tony's arms. "I will just finish my message to Iyov."

Tony nodded and left her to it. In the meantime, he tucked David in, the little boy not stirring once at the many shifts in position. He then went downstairs and just wandered around in the living room, sitting, not sitting, staring, until he heard the door to the study close shut and Ziva enter the bathroom. He waited for her to finish showering, only going upstairs when the faint rummaging in the drawers had stopped. When he entered their bedroom, Ziva was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, clad only in her nightgown and with her hair falling freely in petite curls.

She stared at him expectantly and Tony didn't waste another minute to take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her. He opened his mouth. "You were right to-"

"No, please, let me", Ziva interrupted him, her hand going up quickly and a small smile forming on her face. "I understand now where you were coming from and I understand that you believe in protecting them. But I failed my responsibility before and I cannot fail again, Tony."

Tony inched a bit closer to her, his hand almost grazing hers. "You did not fail your sister, Ziva", he countered softly.

"She is dead, Tony. She was my responsibility and she died", she insisted. "We cannot always protect the ones we love. I have lost too much to believe that. But I can fight, every day, to keep them feeling safe, keep them feeling protected from this world. And I know it is irrational. I know it does not work that way. But I have to believe that it can work, because I have survived everything… But I could never survive losing my children." The look in her eyes was so sincere that it almost left Tony speechless, but he opened his mouth nonetheless. Before he could even make a sound, however, Ziva added no less fiercely, "Or you."

A wide grin erupted on Tony's face. Even after so many years he loved, and needed, to hear that. Then his eyes grew serious again. "But I'll keep believing that we can protect them, because that's just what I do, okay?", he explained, his voice unwavering. "I go out there and send everything that could possibly harm you or the kids straight to hell. It's just what I have to do, or I'll go nuts. Can you live with that?"

Ziva chuckled slightly. "Yes, Tony, I can live with that."

"Good."

They finally let go of their previous argument and leant forward almost simultaneously, meeting in a mutual kiss. Pulling back, Tony added matter-of-factly, "That's why we're a team... We're a team."

* * *

><p><strong>Thursday, April 1<strong>**st**** 2021**

Ziva's morning had started early, memories plaguing and brightening her dreams until she had dismissed sleep altogether and gone for an extra-long jog in the early morning. When she returned, Tony was already clad in his work clothes, informing her that he had arranged an early meeting with Vance. He wanted to brief the director on the new turns in their case and he wanted to secure his active involvement early on. In all matters Israeli or distantly related, Vance had proven himself worthy of Tony's trust over the years.

Before Ziva went upstairs to shower, they met in a long kiss, concluding their argument of the previous day. While she got ready, Tony woke up the kids. Apparently, though, Tali had already been awake what with falling asleep quite early - even for a little girl with as much holistic need for sleep as Tali, those additional hours counted. So, Tony had led her to the bathroom where Ziva helped the five-year-old get ready, while Tony had a much harder time getting David to wake up - the eight-year-old, in turn, had gone to sleep well after his usual bedtime. After helping his little princess get dressed, Tony took her downstairs to where Ziva was preparing breakfast. And with one last kiss to both of his girls he had eventually left for the office.

"Mommy, you're staring", Tali observed all of a sudden from her position by the kitchen door.

Ziva whirled around, smiling at her daughter. Her little girl was right, she seemed quite lost in thought today. Ziva went over and crouched down before her. "Am I now?"

"Uh-huh", Tali confirmed, cocking her head to the side. "Why are you staring?"

"Right now, I am staring at you and how pretty you look", Ziva gushed, scanning her daughter's attire before planting a kiss on the little girl's nose, eliciting a giggle.

"Daddy picked some of my new clothes", she boasted, smoothing her dress down at the sides with the kind of panache that always reminded Ziva so much of Tony.

"I can see that."

Ziva smiled and got back up from the floor, suggesting she see why her big brother was taking so long. Tali took on that job with unusual mid-morning enthusiasm and eventually dragged David down the stairs by his hand, the eight-year-old obviously still drowsy on sleep. Ziva had a hard time prying him away from her after their morning hug, chuckling slightly at their morning of reversed roles. Life only gradually came to her son and he only started looking like himself by the time they arrived at Gavington Elementary. He kissed her goodbye and waved at Tali before skipping off to join his class. Tali, in turn, had not even needed Ziva to accompany her to the gate as she quickly joined her friend Anna and Anna's mother in the parking lot after a quick hug. When Ziva got back into her car she was indeed certain that her children were growing up.

* * *

><p>At NCIS headquarters things were particularly slow. Tony was nowhere in sight. Abby had only appeared once to give her an update on Liora, who appeared to be doing well again, and to tell her that another team had just brought in a triple homicide which was probably going to keep her busy in her lab the whole day. Gibbs had announced himself only for later in the morning anyway. So, Ziva and McGee spent a good portion of their morning sitting across from each other, both immersed in reading transcripts and files, talking only sporadically.<p>

Still, Ziva couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had erupted in the pit of her stomach the moment she had stepped into the squadroom; a feeling that was now anchoring there for good. All these memories and pictures had positively dazed her, she was sure of it. So many emotions wouldn't go idly by without leaving their marks, she was sure of that as well. And, what was even more, she was positive she was starting to imagine things.

It started early in the morning. She had just hung up the phone when she caught a glimpse of a woman crossing the walkway to Vance's office. It wasn't unusual to see someone walking into Vance's office. In fact, many people went to and fro all day long. It was unusual because for a split second Ziva imagined that she knew that woman, even though she had seen but a fraction of her, her burgundy coat, not even her face.

Later on, Tony had returned with a pensive look on his face. Asking him about his meeting with Vance, Tony had informed her that they had wrapped it up pretty quickly and that Vance had put on his _'mysterious hat'_, as Tony called it. Tony had actually spent the past two hours fielding a heated negotiation of jurisdiction with people from the FBI in the conference room.

Upon his request Ziva took the additions to their current case report, on which she had worked for the best part of the past hour, up to Vance. However, Cynthia decidedly stopped her from entering Vance's office, assuring her instead that she would get the report to the director as soon as his meeting was over. That, again, wasn't unusual per se. The unusual thing was that Ziva, once again, imagined that the voice she heard talking to Vance sounded familiar - and strangely, the talking had stopped the moment she had uttered her first word to Cynthia. Yes, Ziva was sure, she was imagining things.

When she returned to the bullpen, things were starting to look busy, though. Gibbs had arrived and Tony was eagerly beckoning her to join them for some good, old-fashioned campfire-brainstorming following the newest turn of events. Ziva was just about to inform them that she had heard back from Iyov already and that her cousin couldn't remember anything of value about Farouk Haswari, Ari's grandfather. Halfway through, however, she was interrupted by Director Vance appearing at the railing upstairs and calling all of them to a meeting in MTAC. They shared inquisitive looks.

"You know anything about this?", McGee asked Tony on their way upstairs.

Tony shook his head. "No idea."

Filing into MTAC, Vance was already waiting for them. He nodded at the analyst in charge and suddenly the pictures of three men and a woman appeared on the big screen. All four of them easily and quickly identified the woman as Baila Eshel, Eli's assistant. If possible, their inquisitive scowls became even bigger.

Vance acknowledged that with a nod. He turned to Ziva. "I talked to Eli", he started off-handedly.

Ziva's eyebrows shot upwards. "He is alive?"

"Officially he's not", Vance answered vaguely, "At least not yet."

"Where is he?"

"He was not very generous with personal information", Vance pointed out. "All I know is, he's alive. And that something big is going down."

Tony snorted. "Seriously, Eli's like the Nicolas Cage of murderous kill-plots." He meant it, too.

"Big, Leon?", Gibbs repeated, his eyes narrowed.

"We already figured as much", Tony surmised.

Vance nodded, finally turning towards the screen and the pictures. "Got you a bunch of faces and names", he said. He started to go through them from left to right, first indicating a tall, slender man, looking to be around fifty years of age, his dark hair streaked with grey. "_That_ is Arik Nadiv."

"I always imagined him younger", McGee remarked.

Vance, ignoring the younger agent, went on to indicate the second picture of a man who seemed slightly smaller than Arik, but around the same age. "Kadeer Haswari."

Ziva whirled around to look at the director. "Ari's uncle?"

Vance nodded. "Hosmoya's brother and Farouk's son. The leader of their operation", he clarified. Then he turned to the last of the group, a big, muscular man with a blank expression on his face. "And this is Nuri Bakr."

"Their linebacker", Tony observed.

"That's who you're up against. Baila Eshel you already identified", Vance stated, looking at them expectantly. "Mossad lists them as known associates. Intel's been classifying them as 'in operation' for a while now. We just happened to pick up their scent in the States. But they are _not_ Mossad, Eli was clear about that."

"Mossad just handed it all over?", Gibbs asked.

"If Eli thinks he must", Ziva answered, her voice contemplative and low.

Tony stood there with an incredulous expression. "And that's it?"

"No samples, no dossiers?", McGee added, asking himself the same question. "This is practically nothing to go on."

"I wasn't done yet", Vance cautioned, furrowing his brow. "That was just the teaser."

"Well, lay it down then", Gibbs growled, growing impatient.

Vance gave him a small knowing smile that soon vanished again. "Eli also assured me of the full cooperation of the officer who knows more about them than anyone else."

"Human memory stick, made in Israel", Tony quipped, folding his arms in front of him. "Love 'em. Where's the guy?"

"Gal, actually", Vance clarified and pointed towards the back row.

All four of them followed his eyes and whirled around. They watched a woman step out of the shadow on cue, a burgundy coat highlighting her slender figure. As her auburn eyes locked with Ziva's, all the others turned to look at their friend and partner. Tony, in particular, focused closely on his life partner and felt his heart drop when he noticed the devastated expression on Ziva's face.

The room fell silent.

Only the woman spoke, and they were only two words.

"Shalom, Ziva."

* * *

><p><strong>Guess away...and review.<strong>


	24. Crescendo - Part II

**Chap 24 Crescendo - Part II  
><strong>_Sins of the Mother_

**Thursday, April 1****st**** 2021 - **_**continued**_

Gibbs was sitting behind his old desk, Tony's desk, a blank expression on his face. McGee, too, was sitting at his old desk, eyeing his former boss over the rim of the computer screen. Abby was there with them, perched on the aluminum surface next to her husband, who had just filled her in on what had happened up in MTAC.

"Tony went after her?", Abby asked tentatively, alternating her inquisitive stare between McGee and Gibbs.

Gibbs' eyes wandered upwards. Upstairs, bracing his arms against the railing, there was Director Vance, watching them. Their eyes locked for a moment before Vance turned his back and went to his office.

"Yep. No one else really could", McGee answered his wife.

* * *

><p>Ziva was standing in front of the mirrors in the women's bathroom, splashing her face with water for what felt like the tenth time. She could still feel herself burning up, warmth radiating from her cheeks, regardless. She could sense Tony standing behind her. He had been standing behind her for a while, not saying anything, just watching her, studying her. Pushing through the well of water, she took a deep breath. She ran a hand down her face, leaving it damp. Yes, she had had a feeling, a gut instinct of sorts, and she had known, in a remote part of herself, that something was going to happen, something was going to throw them for a loop. <em>Throw<em>? Who was she kidding? _Hurl_ them for a loop, if that was brutal enough an expression. Eventually, her eyes locked with Tony's reflection in the mirror.

"If you want, we can go downstairs and I'll hold the shower head to your face", Tony said, his remark void of sarcasm. He knew this wasn't the time for sarcastic remarks, he just didn't know a way around them either.

Despite it all, a diminutive smile crossed Ziva's features. "I think, I am done with the water for now", she retorted, pulling two paper towels from the dispenser to dry her face.

Tony gave her space until she had thrown them away. Then he finally took the remaining steps towards her, stopping only inches from her face. He raised his hand to brush a few fallen, damp strands of hair from her forehead. "Got any words?", he asked.

Ziva shook her head. "None."

He nodded. "Vance said Eli confirmed it."

A sardonic laugh ripped through Ziva's body. "Of course he did. Because he knew, he knew and he did not tell me. Instead he disappeared."

"Don't tell me that actually surprises you."

"I know it shouldn't.".

Tony scrutinized her expressions, scanned the look in her eyes, with all the knowledge and past experience of a decade-old love, but there was no discernible emotion to be made out. Which was even worse, to him. It had taken years for her to leave some indicators as to her emotions on her face for Tony to recognize. So now, when there was nothing there, when there should have been something, Ziva was merely feeling too much. It was Ziva at her most primal, returning to the most basic self-defense she had ever been taught: Don't let it get to you.

"This is too much _Times of our Lives_, even for us", he quipped, his hand resting on her upper arm.

Ziva threw her head back. "Just because some soap opera frequently resurrects the dead for the added drama, it cannot just as well happen in real life?"

Tony laughed slightly at the incredulous tone in her voice. "Reality obviously begs to differ." He placed his other hand on her other arm, pulling her even closer. A grin appeared on his face. "Wait a second. How do you even know that _Times of our Lives_ is a soap to begin with?"

"I am a living and breathing person, you know", Ziva retorted, raising her eyes to his level. "I do pick up on what is going on around me."

"I know, I just… I never pegged you for someone who would have more problems recognizing _L.A. Confidential _references than a soap opera."

"You realize that this is entirely beside the point, yes?"

Tony gave her a small smile. "Depends on what point you are talking about."

Ziva snorted. "That my mother, who I have believed to be dead for thirty-one years, has just resurrected herself."

"Well, just for the factor this hits on the Kleenex-Crazy-Scale it's kinda surreal, you gotta admit", Tony pointed out.

Before Ziva could answer, however, their semi-private moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. "Guys?", McGee's voice accompanied it, causing both of their heads to turn.

"What is it, McNosy?" Ziva frowned at Tony, but Tony just shrugged. He couldn't help it.

"I know this isn't exactly the best…you know, but- Abby's finally found a mold-match. A building that's been infested with the same strand of mold that was found in Leahy's apartment. It's been locked down for three weeks", he explained in a rushed whisper. "It's a longshot, but-"

At that moment the door of the women's bathroom opened and Tony and Ziva appeared in the doorframe. McGee's eyes instantly landed on the arm that Tony had openly and purposely slung around Ziva's waist, and she didn't seem to mind either. So, who was McGee to, right? He just looked back up at his boss.

"We're coming", Tony declared pointedly.

McGee nodded and led them back to the bullpen. Gibbs was already holstering his gun when they entered, and Abby's eyes immediately fell on Ziva. Ziva acknowledged her best friend's sympathetic expression with a small smile, before giving Tony's hand a tight squeeze behind her back and grabbing her gear. Soon Tony and McGee had done the same and all four of them, Abby having been left to return to her lab, stepped into the elevator. When they arrived in the evidence garage, however, only three of them got out. Gibbs remained. Ziva turned around, fixing her former boss and mentor with a questioning look.

"You not coming?", Tony asked from beside her.

"Got somewhere to be", Gibbs answered vaguely, stabbing the button of the uppermost floor with his finger and vanishing behind closing elevator doors.

* * *

><p>When Gibbs stepped out of the elevator, he found the walkway on the upper floor empty except, once again, for Director Vance. Vance was reading something on his tablet, pacing in front of the entrance to MTAC. He looked up when he noticed Gibbs walking towards him. Once again, their eyes locked and without a word spoken he nodded towards the conference room. Gibbs offered him an appreciative nod and reached out to take a piece of paper the director was holding out to him.<p>

Gibbs entered the conference room in a swift motion, quietly closing the door behind him. Eliana David, Ziva's presumed-to-be-dead mother, sat at the table on the opposite side of the room. He hadn't gotten a good look at her back in MTAC, too quickly had Ziva stormed out, Tony gone after his partner, and Vance given the warden standing next to Eliana the silent command to take her away. Gibbs quickly added up ages and tried to remember the details, few and in-between, that Ziva had let slip about her mother throughout the years. She had to be around sixty years old. She seemed to be in good shape, though, the only real indicator as to her age being the streaks of greyish white running through her shoulder-length auburn hair. She was wearing it pulled-back in a tight clip. Having shed her burgundy coat, Gibbs had to suppress a small smile upon recognizing the simple combination of dark pants and a blouse that he had seen Ziva wear time and time again.

Eliana had yet to acknowledge Gibbs' presence. She was toying with a locket, opening it and snapping it back shut in quick succession and multiple times. Eventually, she held it up for Gibbs to see. He was standing too far away to get a good look at it, but it looked like a picture, crowded with people. Eliana gazed at it herself for a moment, before she finally spoke for the very first time.

"The last family portrait Eliahu had made. I never had it on me for fear it would get in the wrong hands", she explained. "But I have been wearing it constantly for two weeks now."

That piece of information did nothing for Gibbs except hearing the voice of Ziva's mother for the first time. It was raspier, lower, than her daughter's; more strained and heavier with an accent he didn't even want to bother pinpoint right now.

When she finally looked up at him, her eyes briefly landed on the gun at his waist. "You are here to question me?", she asked.

"Not my place." Gibbs shook his head vaguely. He took a few steps into the room and leaned against the wall, a few feet to her right.

So, she proceeded to give him another look, long and hard. He seemed to be too old to be an active agent here, but he had been with them in the Alert Center. He had been standing next to Ziva; and she had noticed the look he had given her daughter. There was something about that man. He seemed defiant, dangerous and still, there was something more in his eyes.

"All this, it is about me alone", she conceded.

Gibbs nodded his head. "Crazy, bullet-licking bastards that've been giving my family hell for weeks, they've just been trying to smoke _you_ out of your hole."

"Nuri tends to lick the casings before firing a shot. He is an oafish character with strange quirks. But ruthless, without conscience", she pointed out, attempting to establish some kind of worth for herself in this man's eyes. His expression, his demeanor, however; he did not budge.

Gibbs didn't want to waste any time. He had things to say to her. "People suffered and people died. Because of you."

"Eli. Ziva. That poor man who got shot", she summarized, her eyebrows rising in much the same way as Ziva's probably would at this point. "I am well aware of that, Agent."

"Wasn't just talking about this case", Gibbs said.

Eliana ignored him. "That man, Leahy? He was not important. He was just a man in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Why'd they shoot him?"

"Because he was standing next to my daughter", she stated simply. "It was a very clear message to me."

At once, Gibbs leapt forward and, bracing his arms against the mahogany surface of the table, brought his face very close to Eliana's. "You hurt her again", he growled in a low voice, "I'll be just as clear."

Eliana held Gibbs' stare, suddenly very aware of what that look he had been given Ziva in MTAC had been about. Neither of them budged, but once again it was McGee who broke it up. He hadn't bothered knocking and was now standing on the other side of the conference room. He didn't acknowledge Eliana's presence and instantly turned to his former boss.

"Gibbs? We got Nuri", he declared simply.

That new turn of events, however, finally did the trick and both Gibbs and Eliana whirled around to look at McGee. "How'd that happen?", Gibbs inquired, his eyes narrowing.

"We had the right building", he explained, focusing on Gibbs. "We raided it with full backup, but Arik and Kadeer got out through a funnel or something. Left Nuri behind. Big guy probably didn't fit. He surrendered on the scene."

"That is not right. It is too easy", Eliana cut in, for the first time allowing something akin to irritation to infiltrate her voice

McGee almost jumped at the sound of her voice, but his icy glare quickly made up for it. "It took us weeks to get this far. Nothing easy about that", he barked, returning his gaze to Gibbs.

"Where are they now?", Gibbs asked.

"_Interrogation II_, thought you might wanna watch", McGee said, already leaving.

Gibbs quickly set out after the former Probie. At the door, however, he turned back around and fixed Eliana with a stare. Raising his hand, he beckoned her to follow him. If she was wondering why he was doing that, she didn't let show. She merely got up and followed Gibbs into the elevator to the subfloor, through the hallways and came to a halt beside him in front of a door labeled _'Observation II'_. They waited there for a moment, in silence, until they saw Tony round the corner. He was reading a file, noticing the two of them only when he was standing right in front of them. He straightened out his three-piece suit and tucked the file under his arm, squaring his shoulders.

"Ziva?", Gibbs asked.

"Getting the shopping bag", Tony answered casually, his eyes leaving his former boss' just once, for a fleet second, to fix Eliana with a threatening glare.

Gibbs reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper which, Tony noticed upon taking it, was a picture of Eliana. He looked at Gibbs questioningly. "Wildcard", Gibbs stated simply.

Tony nodded. Hurried footsteps emerged from somewhere down the hall and Gibbs opened the door to _Observation_, yanking Eliana with him. Taking a stand behind the two-way mirror, they suddenly came face-to-face with Nuri Bakr. Gibbs quickly realized why Eliana had chosen the word 'oafish' before. It was fitting, indeed.

"Ziva's husband?", Eliana inquired suddenly, the look Tony had just given her still fresh in her memory. She could feel a lump forming in her throat upon speaking her daughter's name in such a context.

Gibbs shook his head, not looking at her. "Not married."

"But in love?"

At that moment, the door to _Interrogation_ was flung open and Tony and Ziva entered. They seemed almost chipper, Ziva carrying an oversized shopping bag which she noisily and with purpose hoisted onto the table standing between them and Nuri. He looked up at them, blinking once, twice, without allowing a discernible expression to appear on his face.

Tony stepped around Ziva to the other side of the table and dropped the file on it. He took out the chair, turned it around and straddled it casually, folding his arms on top of the backrest. He turned to look at Ziva. "See, that's what happens when people don't take their shoes off when they break into somebody else's apartment to ransack it", he declared.

"Always take your shoes off", Ziva repeated in a similarly offhand tone, nodding.

"Or the police men will get on to you, raid your sinkhole of a safe house and take you into custody", Tony added, wriggling his index finger slightly. "Shall we start?" He looked at Ziva expectantly.

Ziva quickly dove into the bag she was holding open with one hand and took out a small computer chip. She cupped it in her hand, pretending to inspect it, and then slipped it onto the table. "Looks custom-made", she commented, eliciting a mightily impressed fake expression on Tony's face.

"It's amazing what this puppy can do", Tony led on, tapping the chip with his finger and focusing his attention on Nuri. "It can record like _everything_ you need to take out terrorists without proper IT education: the name of Egyptian freighters, travel routes, stopover safe houses, and chat conversations with contact agents."

"Right. There's something about this in here", Ziva continued quickly, digging into the bag once more. With a triumphant_ 'Ha'_ she slapped a picture of Baila Eshel onto the table. Tapping it with her finger, she added explanatorily towards Nuri, "Your contact agent."

"All sold out, though. Nowhere to be found", Tony remarked. "Maybe someone has her. We put up an alert on _Ebay_, just to be sure."

Ziva started rummaging through the bag again.

"Looking for something specific, sweet cheeks?"

"Yes", Ziva answered, sighing over-dramatically. "The thing he lost, you know, the- the-"

"Gum!", Tony exclaimed. "Right. You lost your gum, didn't you? But don't worry, pal, we found it."

"There it is." Ziva placed an evidence jar holding the pearl of gum on the table.

"I really do apologize for forcing that DNA sample out of you", Tony said. "Internal regulations, you know? We do it to all the costumers."

"Some of them we do not have to _force_", Ziva cautioned.

"Right. But you're a known terrorist, so you get special treatment."

"That brings us to the casing", Ziva said, tossing Tony the evidence jar in question.

Tony caught it in mid-air and held it out in front of Nuri's face. "Same label. Yours, quite probably."

"If you will remember, that casing comes with an M39 Enhanced Marksman Rifle", Ziva announced then, fishing out the reason they had to get a bigger shopping bag. She placed it squarely on the table with everything else. Nuri's eyes stayed with the rifle for a second, then he raised them back up to look at Tony.

"Yours, I assume?", Tony guessed, pointedly stroking the cheek piece. "After all, you put it on the market yourself, didn't you?"

"In that warehouse, remember?", Ziva added, eliciting Tony's enthusiastic nod.

"Anything else?", Tony asked then, eyeing Ziva curiously. "Hell of a shopping trip, after all."

Ziva slightly nodded her head and took out two pieces of paper. With a swipe of her hand, she threw the shopping bag on the floor and, in its place, slapped two pictures on the table, one of Arik and one of Kadeer. "Not all your idea, was it? Arik and Kadeer are the brains of the operation anyway."

Up until now, Nuri had remained stoic, unmoving, almost unblinking, while he submitted to their little show. Seeing that they knew not only their names, but also had their pictures, he twitched slightly in his seat for the first time. He tried to hide this little lapse by shifting in his seat to straighten up, but small smiles had already erupted on Tony's and Ziva's face. It also told them that Baila could not have played that big of a part in their intricate scheme.

"Three guys, one mission", Tony said smugly. "Hope it wasn't too crowded in that basement."

Behind the mirror, behind their backs, Gibbs and Eliana had been looking on, silently. As the interrogation room fell silent for a moment, Eliana turned towards Gibbs. "Is it always like this?", she asked.

"Different cases, different tactics", Gibbs answered curtly, his eyes remaining plastered on the two agents in the other room as they were staring at Nuri, trying to get him to budge just a little bit more.

"We only had _one_ tactic back in my days", Eliana mumbled, her voice almost incoherent as she turned back to watch the happenings in the other room.

Gibbs, however, picked up on a particular detail. "Back in your days, huh?"

Eliana ignored his question.

Meanwhile in the interrogation room, Tony had given Ziva a small smile, signaling his _zugzwang_ move. Opening the file on the table in front of him, he pulled out the picture Gibbs had given him a few minutes before: The picture of Eliana. He put it on top of everything else, watching Nuri closely as this big man's pupils dilated, his eyelids started twitching and he started swaying a little to the side. He could feel Nuri losing control of the odd twitch in his foot as well.

"You cold? We can turn up the heat, make it more Mid-Eastern in here", Tony suggested sardonically, having waited for the effects of Nuri's spasticity disorder to kick in. However, Nuri merely tore his eyes away from Eliana's picture in response.

"It is about her, isn't it?", Ziva asked, her eyes narrowing. "You are here for her."

Nuri's eyes suddenly locked with Ziva's. He tapped the picture of Eliana, then raised his hand to point at Ziva. A small smile settled on his face.

"Stay quiet all you want", Tony ended, already getting up. "We will get you."

* * *

><p>When Ziva and Tony returned to the bullpen, an entire family congregation was gathered there; including McGee, Abby, Ducky and, incidentally, also Director Vance. Abby quickly offered them the results of her DNA test, confirming that Nuri had in fact been the one to chew the gum, lick the casing - and hence the one responsible for shooting Dustin Leahy. Vance added that they would instruct his guards to be very <em>'economical'<em> about providing Nuri with the sedative that he needed, then. As their questioning gazes turned on Ziva and Tony, they jointly reported on not having gotten too much out of Nuri except for the dire fact that Eliana did not only know more about the group than anyone else, they also now believed that she had been their target all along.

When questions moved on to the director, however, Vance shook his head. "I don't know much", he admitted. "Eli contacted me over a private line. He said he was okay, in hiding but safe, and that his wife was not dead but right here. That was all. Suddenly she was ringing my doorbell."

"Quite the baggage to dump on you in a social call", Tony remarked with a frown.

"Permission to question her", Ziva requested at once, looking squarely at Vance.

They all knew who she was talking about, and Vance had spent the best part of the past few hours debating with himself whether he could live with how bad an idea that was. But he nodded his okay anyway. "You and DiNozzo, together."

They nodded in unison, then turned to look at McGee. "Could you drive David to soccer practice?", Ziva asked, her voice softening. "We will not be finished in time."

"We called Sarah to look after Tali, but David, he's-"

"Not a problem", McGee answered, giving them a small smile. "Don't worry about that now."

They were about to thank their friend when Gibbs and Eliana appeared in the bullpen. Gibbs' eyes immediately settled on Ziva, studying her. If Ziva was letting herself feel anything at all right now, however, it was not for him to find out. Instead, Ziva quickly dodged his scrutinizing gaze, locked eyes with Eliana and nodded towards the stairs. Then she just turned and left. Eliana followed her without another word and Tony, in turn, waited for her to pass him by before going after them.

"You know that feeling when you look around and everything is kinda flashing before your eyes, like passing you by, and some guy's playing his cello in the background?", Abby mused, her eyes following them upstairs just like everyone else's.

"The prelude to Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major", Ducky deduced. "Fitting, indeed."

* * *

><p>They entered the conference room in exactly the formation they had filed up the stairs in, with Ziva in the lead and taking one of the chairs on the right, facing away from the bay window. She positioned her body in a way that allowed Eliana only one chair to choose for herself, on the short end of the table, diagonally opposite from Ziva, facing the bay window. Tony, after having closed the door behind them, chose not to sit at all. He leaned against the wall right behind Ziva. This was her thing, this she had to do herself. He was there to be there. Also, it gave him a much better angle to study Eliana's body language, her gestures, her expressions. For a moment, even, he was fascinated by the fact that mother and daughter were sitting up completely straight. He had seen Ziva do this many times, she had marvelously threatening posture sometimes. Ziva's hands were folded on the table in front of her, Eliana had placed hers in her lap.<p>

"From the beginning", Ziva demanded, not giving way to any trace of emotion in her voice.

Eliana looked at her for a moment. She had not been this close to her daughter in over thirty years. It was impossible not to start with the one word that kept echoing in her head all along. "Ziva-"

"Agent David", Ziva corrected her quickly.

Tony glanced at his partner. Her correction hadn't been harsh or anything. It had rather sounded like the simple establishment of roles in an unfathomable social setting. Then he turned to Eliana. That had just been the first time he had heard the voice of the woman he might have actually called his mother-in-law, in a reality that was not theirs, that is.

"Start at the beginning", Ziva repeated.

"There is neither a beginning to this story, nor an end", Eliana retorted, her eyes, eyes so similar to her daughter's, locking with Ziva's.

Tony couldn't help but notice that, in comparison to Ziva's down-to-business intonation, Eliana's voice seemed much softer, lacking added fervor. Also, he had naively expected her to have the same audible Israeli accent that Ziva had had in the beginning, in her first years at NCIS. But instead he couldn't quite place her accent at all. He realized that Eliana had probably not spoken a lot of her native Hebrew in the past decades at all. Then he wondered if Ziva had inherited her knack for languages from her mother, whether Eliana might speak more than Hebrew and English. Her English certainly sounded a tinge more British than North American.

"Try."

"Maybe then it starts with my time in Mossad", Eliana started slowly, closely watching her daughter's reaction.

"You were never Mossad", Ziva declared defiantly.

Eliana couldn't help but see a small speck of the little girl she had once known in Ziva's eyes right at that moment. The little girl who had insisted she was far too old to go to bed just yet every night. The little girl who had defended her big brother whenever their father was, in her eyes, being unfair to him. The little girl who had always declared her _'I love you'_s with that kind of fierce purpose that made you pause for a moment before returning it.

"I was Mossad", Eliana reiterated, deeming times for sugar-coating anything long over. "How else do you think Eliahu and I would have met? Your father has never been anywhere but at the front lines. My father, your grandfather, was Haganah. And I was bound for Mossad from birth."

"Just like me then", Ziva concluded, a hint of regret edging its way through her otherwise composed demeanor.

"No", Eliana countered quickly, shifting her body forward. "You were _never_ supposed to follow in either one of our footsteps. You were supposed to stay far, far away from it. That is why I cut off my ties to Mossad so completely when I got pregnant with you. I worked _so hard_ to cover my tracks. I tried to do everything I could not to-"

"What did you do?", Ziva cut in. "Who were you in that life?"

"An assassin, special task unit", Eliana returned just as quickly.

For Tony, these were certainly the hardest moments to bear. Ziva and he hardly ever talked about their respective mothers. But because they shared a very similar history in that respect, they tended to silently understand. With Ziva, mainly, there was one thing to understand: That the choices she had made in life, the person and, particularly, the _mother_ she had become, anchored on her own mother's death - and the very belief that things could have been different had Eliana lived. To her, now, realizing that her mother had filled the same position in Mossad as Ziva, and recognizing the mayhem that had come of it all - he wondered how his life partner could ever come out of this mess unscathed as a person, a lover and a mother.

"I was assigned a particular cluster of targets", Eliana continued. "When the power relations in Israel were settling after the wars, some regional splinter groups with multi-national ties were being left out of its inner circles. Some were more powerful than others and they were posing a dangerous threat from within a country that was surrounded by threats from the outside. I was given the order to neutralize one such cluster with my team. We slowly worked our way through their ranks. Your father was my control officer."

A small smile sprinted across Eliana's lips. Ziva noticed but didn't allow herself to make too much of it in her mind. Instead, she tried to concentrate on the pivotal details. "What happened?"

"I got pregnant before the mission was completed."

"That", Ziva asserted sardonically.

"Yes. I left it all behind to protect you and your-"

"Seems like you did not get out clean", Ziva interjected before Eliana could end her sentence and say Tali's name. To think of her little sister now would have made it all even more unbearable

A smile firmly settled on Eliana's face. Was it pity? Was it regret? Ziva didn't dwell on it. "No matter how many threats you neutralize, Ziva", she ruminated, "They will always leave a son or a daughter and a force as relentless as retribution."

Ziva slightly tilted her head to the side, Eliana's words too very true not to. "What went wrong?"

"Everything", Eliana said, shaking her head slightly. "My target at the time was Farouk Haswari-"

"Ari's grandfather and Hosmoya's father", Ziva substituted.

"You know?"

"It's not like we sat around for the past two weeks doing nothing." Ziva didn't even try to hide the disdain in her voice at this point.

Eliana noticed, of course she did, but she went on. "He was one of their chief operatives. He had accepted responsibility for bombings, assassinations, civilian deaths and he was threatening to do much worse. There was no way around it, and at that time he was no one to me. He was a threat to be eliminated. We knew that he was meeting his supplier. We knew where, we knew when. So, we went in and we took them out."

Tony recognized the methodical step-by-step of these missions, recognized the lack of color in a voice that suddenly reminded him a lot of Ziva's and the manner in which she would detail the success of fulfilling orders back in the day. Ziva herself was hit by the simplicity of her mother's words. Then again, it seemed strange to feel so appalled by the dutiful nonchalance in Eliana's voice. Because it sounded familiar. A few years ago that voice had been her own.

"Marlowe Grady", Ziva threw in.

"Their supplier, yes", Eliana nodded. "There was no way we could pass up the opportunity of weakening their supply chains. But we were too eager. We were sloppy. Not careful enough."

"You were made?"

"No. Much, much worse. Farouk's son was there with him."

"Kadeer."

"Yes. He is younger than me, he was a boy at that time. He didn't know and he had nothing to do with any of this", Eliana explained, every speck of cool itemization of mission details gone from her account now. "We took out the gunrunner and Farouk, and let it appear as an accident through a faulty gas line. But I could not kill Kadeer. Not like that. I could not shoot him. I overpowered him and we left him there to deal with fate. I thought he was unconscious, but he must have seen it all. And he survived."

"Did Ari know?", a faraway voice asked that sounded nothing like Ziva's. "Before he- Did he _ever_ know?"

Eliana smiled sadly. "No, he never even suspected… I felt guilty, ashamed to even look at him. But fate has a way with us, Ziva. It never quite lets go."

"He worshiped you. He trusted you with all his heart."

"I had betrayed that trust even before I knew him, before he was even born, and from then on every day of his life. But I never wanted to hurt him." Eliana was leaning onto the table now. "I never meant for this to happen to him."

"Why did you let it happen, then?", Ziva asked in a low voice.

"At that time I could have never imagined that your father's eagerness for retribution was just as deadly", Eliana stated, remorse filling her voice as she leaned back in her chair.

"What did he do?"

"Ari was conceived to be his mole in Hamas."

"I know."

"What you do _not_ know is that your father carefully selected the woman, with whom he would conceive that child. And he selected the daughter of someone he thought scum. He chose Hosmoya, because he wanted to shame them, their only daughter carrying the child of a man whose kind they had always fought", Eliana explained with obvious difficulty. "It was ultimate retribution. But your father had not considered the danger he was putting us all in."

"So, Kadeer was after Eli?", Ziva concluded, feeling confused.

"Kadeer hated your father, he did", Eliana confirmed quickly. "But he loved Ari. Ari wasn't at fault, and Hosmoya believed in your father until the end. So Kadeer stood back. It was I who he could not allow to get away. But he did not know who I was, not yet."

"But Hosmoya and you never met", Ziva declared.

Eliana nodded. "No, we did not. When I realized how much danger Eli had brought right to our doorstep, I tried to protect you. Ari was six when he came to live with us. I tried to get all of you away from it. I left your father. I took Ari. I knew what he had planned for him. He had created the perfect cover, a perfect mole. But I wanted Ari to have different, I wanted my daughters to have different." Eliana looked at Ziva with almost pleading eyes. "And your father… He was planting hatred far too deep."

"And it got Ari killed", Ziva pointed out simply, remorse and anger surging in her voice. Tony took an unconscious step forward. "It got an NCIS Agent killed. It got Ari killed. And it almost killed _me_."

"Ziva, I could not-"

"I killed my own brother, Ima", Ziva cried out, her brown eyes gleaming ferociously.

Tony took another step towards his partner until he was standing right beside her. But he couldn't do anything. He couldn't just sweep her up and engulf her in a hug. He couldn't. This wasn't the time.

Instead, he let his eyes wander towards Eliana, who sat there, unmoving for a while before jerking her head back. "Following orders-"

"To save an innocent man's life."

"Ari might have-"

"You have no idea the monster he had become without good to hold on to", Ziva cut her off quietly, taking a deep breath to regain composure. She shot a fleeting glance at Tony and straightened back up. She realized she had stopped being an NCIS Agent for a moment, and had turned into the daughter she had never been allowed to be. But she couldn't allow herself to slip up like that.

"How did Kadeer find out?", she continued.

"Do you remember that day when Ari broke his arm?"

Ziva nodded. How couldn't she? Ari had only broken his arm once in his life. They had put a creamy white cast on him. That was the same cast she had found him attack with a can of paint a little over a week later when bursting into his room. With much futile effort he had been trying to cover its creamy whiteness with black topcoat color. She remembered asking him what he was doing. She remembered that she had been crying. She remembered him stating, as if it had been the plainest thing in the world: that he did not want the white cast to be white and stick out under his black suit at Eliana's funeral the next day. And she remembered going over to him, whisking the small brush from his hand and painting the cast in a dark shade of black for him.

Ziva was jerked out of her memories by Eliana's voice. "He was with his uncle that day. Hosmoya was not in Israel, so she had called Kadeer. When they brought Ari to the hospital he asked them to call me. I went there without thinking twice about it and suddenly stood face-to-face with the son of the man I had killed a few years before. Of course Kadeer recognized me. Of course he remembered my face. He had memorized it."

Ziva was taken back to that day only about a week before Eliana's supposed death. "Abba and you… You fought that day of Ari's accident. You came into your office yelling-"

"While you were hiding under my desk. I remember", Eliana said softly. "We knew we were both to blame. And we knew I would be dead by the end of the week. Your father tried to come up with a plan, but-"

"You died", Ziva exclaimed, her voice boiled down to a whisper. "I buried you. I was eight years old and I was holding Tali's hand and we were burying our mother. You died. You have no idea the hell we went through after your death."

"There was no way to prepare", Eliana defended quickly. "It was by chance that I was close by when the explosions happened. I was injured, but not too badly. My things were scorched, my clothes torn. I needed to act. I placed my bag with a female corpse I found. She was burnt beyond recognition. I put my clothes on her and fled."

Ziva's eyes widened. "How- Her family-"

"I know that what I have done cannot be forgiven", Eliana declared, shaking her head. "I do not know who they are, but I ask that woman and her family for forgiveness every day. But it cannot be forgiven."

That last sentence rang so very true with Ziva's feelings, but she couldn't let it show. Not now. "And then?", she asked simply.

"I was on the run. I left Israel and I have not gone back since", Eliana carried on, a tinge of yearning stretching her voice. Ziva could at least relate to that. "I thought I had ended it. I thought it had ended with me. When I heard that Adena and Sol had been killed-"

"Adena and Sol? They were-"

"-put on my mission, yes", Eliana nodded. "Kadeer was taking over from Farouk. Grady was replaced by another gunrunner-"

"Jared Cooper", Ziva deduced, looking up at Tony. "Adena and Sol, they killed Cooper." Tony nodded faintly.

"Do you see it?", Eliana broke up their small moment of clarity, shifting forward in her chair once more. "Do you see how it never ends?"

"You could have ended it", Ziva countered defiantly, focusing her eyes back on the mother she had apparently never truly known. "You could have made it stop. Did you not see what was happening to us? Did you not know?"

"I was on the run for so long. I did not dare come too close, or ask around too much."

"But why did you not come back? Make it right?", Ziva went on, her voice on the verge of breaking.

Tony could only watch now, but he knew this was going down a dangerous path. This whole thing was on the verge of breaking and he tried to clear his mind and form a plan for when it would.

"Could I have made it right, Ziva? Could I really?", Eliana rebuffed. "We make decisions. And when we have children these decisions affect them as well. They make them even harder on us. I thought I was making the right ones. When Kadeer made me it was all too late. The only thing I could do to protect you, was to leave you."

Ziva scoffed. "Look what came of it. Tali is dead. Ari is dead. Eli and I…"

"But _do_ look, Ziva", Eliana said softly. "You are so much stronger than I have ever been. Stronger than any of us. You made it right on your own accord. You have beautiful, beautiful children now. And a man who loves you-"

At that moment Tony took a step back again. There was no need for a backup plan now. He glanced into Ziva's eyes and witnessed a small shift, the look in her eyes shifting from the daughter scorned to the mother that she was. "How do you know that?", Ziva inquired, her voice leveling.

"You almost saw me twice", Eliana admitted. "At that coffee shop the day Nuri shot that man. You were looking directly at me for a second. It got harder and harder to stay away from you, Ziva. You and your daughter in the park. She is so precious-"

Ziva stopped her right there. "You have been tracking me for weeks."

Eliana smiled sadly. "On and off for about a year, actually."

"And you didn't come forward?"

"It was not the time."

"What is different now?"

"NCIS was getting too close, too involved. This is the only way to help you, maybe the only way to end it", Eliana explained quickly.

Tony could see how the offer of 'helping them' was once again riling Ziva up, and finally decided to jump in, if just for this once. "How did they know you were still alive? Kadeer. How did he know?", he asked, staring at the older woman questioningly.

"Niv Peled", Eliana said simply.

"How?"

"I did try to keep track of you as much as I could. I did", Eliana elaborated, concentrating back on Ziva. "I established contacts. I built a network. I had to survive. Niv Peled, in trying to get to you, was using the same sources, the same contacts, the same beaten paths around the in-between. He picked up on the chatter and started to dig deeper. He put all of it together in the end."

Ziva couldn't believe it. Or, maybe she could. She didn't know what was worse. Niv Peled, chasing her for something her father had done, or Niv Peled eventually uncovering her mother and all that she had done - all of the above putting her and the family she had worked so hard to build in inconceivable danger.

"So, Niv found you? The real you?"

"Yes, but he was not the threat. He was close to giving up. The people he had paid to look in the right places and ask the right questions. These people suddenly knew as well and their knowledge came with a price tag", Eliana recounted. "And it was bought up by those who craved for it the most. Adena and Sol were killed four years ago. They were already tracking me back then. They thought that my niece and her husband would surely know something."

"But they did not", Ziva conceded remorsefully. The funeral of her cousin Adena and her husband Sol, a dear friend from her early years in Mossad, had been a particularly painful chapter in the past few years. They had both been brutally manhandled and beheaded.

"When I heard that Nettie got Adena's head in the mail-"

Tony had to gulp down a bit of vomit that had surged up his esophagus. Ziva, too, let her eyes drop to the floor. "Nettie never fully recovered…"

Eliana nodded slightly. Her big sister should have never died because of her, but ultimately, Nettie probably did. "From then on I had no other choice than to be more offensive. I started gathering information. I uncovered Niv's identity, but it was too late to interfere then", she said.

"We dealt with it on our own, thank you", Tony put in, needing to have this fact established. Once again, it hadn't been Ziva's birth family who had protected her, it had been the family she had chosen for herself. Ziva glanced up at him for a second, and they shared a small, diminutive smile.

"I feared they would start going after my remaining family to lure me out", Eliana continued, wanting to get this done, tell her story and go on from there - even if she had no idea where this would be. "We followed each other to the U.S., and I started watching you, waiting for them. There was little more I could do."

"And Eli?"

"He did not know, Ziva. He never knew, he never suspected", Eliana tried to defend the husband she hadn't seen for decades. She could only guess what had happened to his relationship with their daughter after she had left. "He contacted me for the first time only a few weeks ago. Then he assured my safe transit to NCIS."

"He must have known for longer", Ziva concluded defiantly. She just knew, her instincts knew that her father would have never been in the dark for that long. He was an aggressive player, a charger, never on the defensive. Eli David lived in an unprotected glass cupola without any walls to back into.

"Do not blame your father for something that I have done."

Ziva half-laughed, shaking her head and looking away from Eliana. "Don't worry. I have been trying to move past blaming him for the better part of my life."

Maybe there would have been more left, more left to say and more feelings left to discuss; quite certainly. But right at that moment a shot rang out, echoing through NCIS headquarters. Instincts kicking in, Ziva and Tony didn't think twice. They stormed out of the conference room, scanned their surrounding quickly and followed the stream of people towards the walkway railing. When they saw other agents hovering around the doors leading to the main staircases, they sprinted down into the squadroom, pushed through the crowd, through the doors, down the stairs, and arrived just in time to see Palmer fall back against the open elevator door on the subfloor, shaking his head. His hands were smeared with blood, his breathing labored from having administered CPR.

Their eyes wandered, in unison, to the corpse lying on the floor of the elevator. He was big, muscular, bloody. Nuri Bakr. A gaping wound had torn a hole through his head. A gun was lying beside his right hand. He was dead. Nuri had shot himself.

When Tony turned around he could make out all of their the faces: McGee holding Abby whose face was turned into his shoulder, Ducky consoling Palmer, Gibbs, and even Eliana who must have followed them. At last, his eyes fell on Ziva, right beside him, who sported, unbeknownst to her, the same stoic expression as her mother while they were both wrapping their minds around what had happened.

"Overpowered two agents, one is fine, one critically injured. Paramedics took him to the closest ER", an agent recounted slowly. Tony faintly remembered his voice from far-too-loud phone calls made in the squadroom. Gibbs had apparently asked the question.

Nuri Bakr was dead.

* * *

><p>Things had only slowly settled down. Vance had had dozens of agents, potential witnesses, come to and go from his office in order to compile a most thorough report on what had happened: how NCIS had just lost an internationally wanted terrorist and, most importantly, in order to have something more than hollow apologies to tell the family of the agent who had eventually died before ever making it to the ER.<p>

Ziva and Tony, on the other hand, had been writing up separate reports on their repartee with Eliana for most of the remaining day. They could have postponed it, they could have just gone home. Nobody could have blamed them, nobody could have complained. Tony would have done so, too, in a heartbeat. Ziva, in turn, had made no move to leave NCIS just now. She couldn't yet bear the thought of leaving this day behind, of having to come to terms with what had happened. More than anything, however, she couldn't bear looking into her children's eyes right now. They deserved a mother who had the strength to be there for them, take care of them, listen to the stories of the day they had had, and tuck them in at night. Today, of all days, Ziva was feeling drained. Too drained to take on the life that had just been chewed up and spat out. And Tony, being Tony, had made no move to leave her here, by herself. He had stayed.

As had everyone else. They had hovered, trying to be discrete, but Ziva had gratefully acknowledged their hovering anyway. McGee, after assuring them that David had made it to soccer practice on time, had returned to continue reading the Cooper-transcripts, even though it seemed a most pointless task now. Ducky and Gibbs kept coming and going, passing through the bullpen on occasion without even bothering to make up excuses. Eventually, Ducky had decided to leave, but not without inviting both Ziva, Tony and the kids to his manor for a cup of tea.

When the time was nearing to pick David up from soccer practice, Abby and McGee slowly got ready to leave as well. McGee told them that they had promised Liora to go out for dinner tonight and that they were happy to bring Tali and David along.

"You do not have to take on three kids for dinner", Ziva was quick to decline, a small appreciative smile on her face. "Enjoy your evening with Liora-"

Abby took a few steps towards her best friend, stopping her at once. "Look, Ziva. Family does not need to hurt all the time, okay?", she started, her eyes locking with Ziva's. "Family are those who invite you for tea to talk even if you don't have anything to say. Family are those who threaten the ones that try to hurt you." She briefly glanced at Gibbs, who sported a small knowing smirk. "Family are the ones who take a few pounds of baggage off your shoulders before they can smush you." She pointed at McGee and herself. "And family are those who stay with you no matter what." She glanced at Tony who was silently sitting behind his desk and looking more than thankful for Abby's little speech.

Ziva stood there for a second, staring at her best friend, before she drew Abby into a hug. "Thank you, Abby."

"You're welcome", Abby beamed, returning the hug. "We have a spare key, so they'll get to sleep in their own beds. You two don't worry about a thing."

"We've got it", McGee assured them, slinging his arm around Abby on their way to the elevators when the two women had finally broken apart.

Ziva heaved a small sigh and sat back down behind her desk.

"She's right, you know", Gibbs remarked, taking a stand before Ziva and looking at her with his steel blue eyes, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

She smiled back at him. "I know."

"Take care of her", Gibbs ordered, looking straight at Tony.

Tony nodded determinedly. "Always."

With a final nod towards Ziva Gibbs left as well. By and by, the squadroom was clearing while Tony and Ziva stayed. They hadn't noticed Eliana on the upper floor, watching them, seeing everything she had needed to see and thought she would never get to see at all. Vance had come downstairs just once to inform them that he had set Eliana up with lodging at the Navy Yard. Ziva had merely nodded in response.

When silence had settled in the squadroom and no one's eyes were trained on them anymore, they finally decided to leave as well. They quietly exited the building, Tony's arm draped around Ziva's middle, and drove home in silence. There was nothing to say right now. At their apartment they met Abby and McGee, carrying a sleeping Liora, who had waited for them to get home. They bid them thankful goodbyes and Tony watched Ziva walk up the stairs shortly after the front door had snapped shut. He followed her, keeping his distance. She had first peeked into David's room, finding the little boy to be sound asleep. She stepped into his room, smiling at the way the book he had been reading was lying open on top of him. She marked the page and put it on the nightstand, then tucked the blanket tightly back in around him. She bent down and brushed a kiss against his forehead, leaving him to his dreams.

Then she went to Tali's room. The door had been left ajar and Tali's serene features were covered in the soft glow of her fairy lamp. She was lying spread-eagle in her princess bed, the covers draped around her feet. Ziva couldn't suppress a chuckle and leaned against the doorframe, watching the rhythmical up-and-down of her daughter's breathing. Tony's arms wrapped themselves around her from behind. She leaned into him, allowing him to plant a small kiss onto the back of her shoulder.

"My entire life story has been rewritten. When I woke up today I was a daughter with a dead mother. And now, I am the daughter that was left behind", Ziva said softly, her eyes still focused on her own daughter, five years old, and all hers.

"That doesn't change who you are", Tony countered just as softly, speaking over her shoulder. "Not to me, and not to them."

Ziva wasn't so sure about that, but this wasn't the time to say anything about that. "They have a grandmother", she declared instead.

"They do", Tony realized. He had yet to fathom the repercussions of it all, and what it would mean for them as a family. "What do we tell them?"

Ziva sighed. "I have no idea."

"We'll figure it out. We will", Tony assured her, kissing the side of her face.

He could feel Ziva nod slightly at that, but he didn't know if she meant it too. She laid her head back against his shoulder. "Can you ever truly know your parents?", she mused, voicing a thought she had been volleying around in her head for hours. "I was eight when Eliana left. David is eight now. Does he know who I am? Or who you are?"

Tony slightly shook his head, pulling her closer to him. "I guess not."

Ziva silently agreed. "Maybe he should never know. I don't know...", she said. "It is not fair when children have to live down the sins of their mothers and fathers."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bang. There you go.<strong>  
>This is where I planned to end this story after re-starting it. Don't worry, I have since decided (and found the time) to keep going, but it might take me more than one week between updates. But I thank you all for your reviews, taking the time to read the prequel andor this story and seeing it unfold. **Tell me what you think.**_


	25. Sinus

**Chap 25 Sinus**

**Friday, April 2****nd**** 2021**

"I am so sorry. I didn't think anybody would be here", she said quickly.

She had been roaming the grounds and departments at NCIS for a while, Director Vance had all but given her a free pass to do so. But she had fashioned herself a silent observer, adamant not to disrupt any work routines. It was early, and evidently most people were not working this early anyway - that much she had gathered thus far.

She was ready to return to the double doors that she had entered through, when he got up from his chair and walked after her. "I don't think we have been properly introduced yet", he observed casually, stretching out his hand.

She looked at him for a moment, a bewildered expression on her face, but then shook his hand with a coy smile. "Eliana David", she said slowly. She was still getting used to stating her real name, so entirely had her life been occupied by aliases and made-up monikers.

"Donald Mallard", he introduced himself, returning her smile. "But you will notice that around here I am referred to as Ducky."

"Ducky", she repeated, unable not to feel somewhat elated by this man's open demeanor. "You were with Ziva's team yesterday."

"Yes. I am the in-house medical examiner. Or I should say that I was. I am retired now", Ducky said. "Tony called me in for a psychological profile on our two remaining perpetrators."

"I would not want to keep you from your work, then", Eliana relented, once again turning to leave.

Ducky, however, held her back. "Oh, on the contrary. I was meaning to consult with you anyway", he said, eliciting another, if questioning smile. "After all, it is you who was brought in as the expert."

Her smile had dimmed slightly upon Ducky's last sentence, but she nonetheless followed his wordless invitation to join him at his desk and took a seat. When he motioned at the teapot and the spare mug, eyebrows raised, she nodded appreciatively.

"Scotsman?", she inquired, watching him pour the steaming hot liquid.

"Well-versed in accents and tea tradition, I gather?"

"I lived quite a few years in and around Britain and Ireland", Eliana added, taking a small sip. Ducky nodded with a knowing smile.

They sat in silence for a while after that, both concentrating on their tea, both lost in thought. "Would you like us to start?", Eliana asked then, indicating the folder lying open beside them on the desk, the ID-shots of Arik Nadiv and Kadeer Haswari gleaming at them menacingly.

"I thought", Ducky said, speaking slowly and looking Eliana right in the eye, "You might want to talk about something, or _somebody_, else before that."

He could see in her eyes, eyes that reminded him a lot of Ziva's, that he had hit the right nerve. But, to his surprise, and again, not much unlike the Ziva he had once known, Eliana shook her head. "You are my daughter's friend. I would not want you to get into trouble with Ziva if she felt you betrayed her trust by talking to me about her."

Ducky shook his head slightly. "And I would never risk betraying that trust by answering any questions that Ziva needs to answer herself, or tell you anything that she entrusted into my knowledge and that is entirely hers to share", he declared. "But I think I am correct to assume these caveats do not preclude all the questions you might have."

Eliana looked at him for a moment, trying to decide whether she was strong enough to stay away from Ziva - and finding, once again, that she was not, not anymore. "Is she happy?", she blurted out. "After all that has- Is Ziva happy?"

"Yes", Ducky confirmed, a smile playing prominently on his face. "I believe she has found a family for herself, and a place to settle down. Happy is not something that came easy for her, quite to the contrary. But she found it eventually. And, of course, she and Tony are raising those two beautiful children together."

Ducky had decided early on yesterday that he would put Tony's request for his psychological expertise to good use and invite Eliana to talk. But he was doing it for Ziva, he was doing it in his role as her confidant and as an uncle to her children. That meant, to him, that he would be honest and not sidestep the truth even if it was an uncomfortable one for Eliana to hear. Eliana, however, did not seem perturbed by the subtext lacing Ducky's words.

"How old are they? What are their names?", Eliana went on, having been yearning to hear the names of her grandchildren ever since she had seen Ziva with them outside of their apartment.

"The older one, David, he is eight years old. He will be turning nine in July, but he generally behaves well beyond the expected maturity of his age. David Jethro Anthony, to be more correct actually", Ducky relayed.

"David Jethro Anthony", Eliana let the name of her grandson roll off her tongue. She tried to conjure up the memory of his face in front of her inner eye. She had not gotten a good look at him that one time. "Who is Jethro?"

"Leroy _Jethro_ Gibbs", Ducky answered. "He was their Supervisory Agent when Ziva first came to work at NCIS. Tony has since taken over from him now that he is retired."

"But he is here now, isn't he?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Because I think he might have introduced himself to me", Eliana said with a small smile, deducing from the manner in which the older agent had threatened her yesterday that the look in his eyes might just have been some kind of fatherly love.

Ducky had a fairly good impression how Gibbs 'introducing himself' must have played out. "Gibbs has always been more of a mentor to them all. Filling roles, and _holes_, in their lives they all had no one else to fill for them."

Eliana nodded her head absently, watching the waves of her tea break against the rim of the mug. From what Ziva had let slip yesterday and now from this, she could probably barely imagine how bad her daughter's relationship with Eli had gotten over the years. Sure, she had picked up on major events and a few details about her family's lives over the years. Often she had told herself that it was enough to know what was going on, almost as if she could pretend to still be a part of their lives. But it became painfully obvious to her now that it hadn't nearly been enough at all.

"And her little girl?", she continued, seizing the opportunity to get away from her own thoughts.

"Tali. She is five."

"Precious little girl", Eliana gushed, a smile brightening her features. "A ball of energy. So much like Ziva. They must have their hands full with her."

Ducky nodded benevolently, but his forehead creased with winkles nonetheless. "You met her?"

"No, no, I have not. I'm afraid, simply introducing myself to my grandchild would betray the intricacies of the situation", Eliana explained softly, a sardonic edge in her voice. "I was keeping tabs on Ziva for a long time, trying to decide if and when to show myself. I was telling myself it was to protect her, but I never expected how hard it was getting to be there, to see her, and to stay away from her. I was going in circles, closing in, like a pendulum. I am not proud of my lack of self-control, believe me. But I talked to Tali, I did."

"Have you told Ziva that?"

"I have", Eliana assessed quietly, trying not to imagine how much of a mistake it had been on top of everything else. "She named her after her sister."

"Ziva does not usually talk about that part in her life", Ducky conceded quickly, his eyes growing darker. "All I can tell you with fair certainty is that Ziva was full of adoration for her sister Talia."

"For both of her siblings… Tali died in a Hamas bombing at a Tel Aviv market", Eliana put in, her eyes clouding with pain, and unsure why she was even allowing herself to dig into that subject. "I was far away then. Central America, I think. I heard of it only long after it had happened. Nothing I could have done."

Ducky could see the pain of losing a child in Eliana's eyes, the greatest pain imaginable. But there was something he needed her to comprehend just the same. "Ziva raised her. And her sister's memory kept a hold on her, for a very long time."

"Yes", Eliana confirmed, fixing him with her eyes. "I allowed my daughter to take on the role of a mother in her sister's life and life made her lose that child. Believe me, Ducky, I am well aware of that."

Ducky nodded, even if it saddened him, right there, to see this woman, well broken by all that had happened in her life, so determined and aware of her own sins, while Ducky knew right well that she did not even know a fraction of what her daughter had gone through - and if only for the memory of her little sister. He felt a pang of pain in his heart. Maybe he truly was too old for all of this already.

"What is Tali's full name?"

Ducky cleared his throat and thoughts. "Talia Rosalie Eliana. Named after both of her grandmothers."

Eliana gulped down the lump that was forming in her throat. "Do they- Is Rosalie still alive?"

"No, I'm afraid not", Ducky shook his head. "Tony lost his mother very young as well."

And so different a loss was it now, suddenly, for them both. "An honor I do not deserve", she concluded, her gaze plummeting to the floor.

"But that is not something that is for you to decide, is it?", Ducky countered with narrowed eyes.

Eliana nodded. "I have reconciled myself with not getting to decide anymore, Ducky."

"Can you really?", he inquired, eyeing her curiously.

"I made decisions in the past and they steered my course. Fate set its mind to having me survive this long and come this far", Eliana went on, barely looking at him. "I never imagined I could go on this long. I never imagined I would get to see her again in this life. It feels like my journey has ended. And if I am allowed to survive even longer, then it will not be my decision where I go. Forgiveness-"

"Forgiveness is a two-way street."

"I can ask for forgiveness, and I will", Eliana ascertained, giving Ducky a small smile. "If I deserve it, I do not know. If I will be granted it, I do not know. It will not be for me to decide that."

Ducky tilted his head to the side a little, and took a sip of his tea. "God knows, I'm no the thing I should be. Nor am I even the thing I could be."

"Robert Burns." Eliana smiled. "I don't think I even know who I _should_ or _could_ be, Ducky."

Ducky nodded his head, mirroring her smile. "Sometimes we don't have control over the paths that we go down, and we certainly don't have much control over the time that passes", he continued, adding with a slight edge, "Robert Burns paraphrased."

A small laugh escaped Eliana's lips and they fell silent to its echo in the autopsy room. After a while she spoke up again, quietly, "Tony?"

"DiNozzo."

"He loves her." It was more a statement than a question anyway, so Ducky chose not to answer. "Is he good to her?"

"They are good _for_ each other", Ducky corrected her.

"I am glad. I always feared she would not get a chance to choose the man that is good for her", Eliana said, unknowingly stirring up the memories of the Rivkin-disaster for Ducky. "It is so much easier to settle for what we know, and so much braver to become who we deserve to be."

A soft smile tugged at Ducky's lips. "You will have to give her time", he advised tentatively. "If she feels pressured, she will retreat, to protect herself and her family. You should know that better than anyone."

Eliana nodded, taking in his advice with an appreciative smile. But it didn't last long. The edges of her mouth sagged again, and her gaze drifted off, to the walls and the ceiling of the room. "Ducky… I fear that I did die back then", she breathed, the muscles in her neck strained with reserve.

"Eliana, I-"

"I'm sorry", she conceded quickly. "You have no obligation to me. I should not bother you with my thoughts. I should-"

"You are right. I have no obligation to you. But I have an obligation to Ziva", Ducky cut in, searching her eyes. "And I have the gift of old age, which allows me to be more open to the sweeping brushes of grey interspersing the black-and-white of young age. In a way, seeing less clearly the edges allows us to see better than most."

"Is Ziva black-and-white?"

Ducky shook his head. "She will fancy herself as seeing the edges, in the beginning. You will have to give her time to see the grey. But she has many protectors here, and they will make it equally hard for you to prove yourself."

"I guess, I will have to find that last fight in me", she mused, putting down her mug with a sense of finality.

"Shall we get started now?", he said, drawing the folder closer to him.

Eliana nodded.

* * *

><p>"Don't go today", Tony whispered into her ear when Ziva's eyes flickered open a mere minute before her alarm was about to go off.<p>

He was lying on his side in the middle of their bed, his head slightly elevated by his pillow and the headboard. Ziva was wrapped into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. She rolled her eyes up at him. She felt drained, weak, tired. It had only been two hours ago that Tony had smoothed down the covers around them again after another one of her nightmares had left her thrashing around in the midst of memories, images, haunting faces. Now, again, they were tangled around her feet. Ziva stretched out her hand and jabbed the button on her alarm clock. She tugged at her blanket, covering herself fully before falling back into Tony's embrace.

"I guess, that means you're not going for a run", he ascertained quietly, drawing her closer and kissing her temple. Ziva shook her head against his chest. "Ready to tell me how you're feeling?"

Ziva waited for a moment to answer, then sighed. "I did not sleep well."

"No kidding."

"I'm sorry, if I-"

"Don't you dare", Tony stopped her, frowning at her while a small smile kept playing on his lips. "We established that years ago. I'm glad when you wake me up. It means that I might catch it before it gets you. And that's exactly what I'm here for."

Ziva returned his smile and leaned up to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

They remained that way for a while, just holding onto each other. Ziva made a few attempts at wrapping her mind around the events of the day before, realizing that, no, it hadn't been one of her dreams. But she failed miserably. Her mind felt jumbled, her thoughts were a mess. When she glanced up at Tony, she could see him think. She could always tell when he was thinking.

"Thinking?", she asked, raising her hand to touch his cheek and the faint morning stubble covering his face.

"About things", he smiled, turning his face to kiss the side of her hand. "I guess, we could try to make a plan about _things_, but-"

"I would not know where to start", Ziva mumbled, a faraway look in her eyes.

"If we hide in here long enough, I'm sure the kids will come looking for us", he suggested, waiting with his smile until her gaze had made it back to him.

Ziva, however, placed her hand squarely on his chest, right above his heart. She felt it beating, once, twice. Then she lifted herself up a little to be at eye-level with him. She leaned forward and caught his lips. "Make love to me, Tony", she breathed against him.

Surprised, not by the suggestion per se, but by the timing, Tony's eyebrows rose. "You sure?"

"I need to know where I am, who I am", Ziva continued, both of her hands finding their way to the base of his neck, caressing his tousled hair.

Tony nodded, but pulled back. He allowed Ziva's eyes to narrow only for a second before he flung his legs out of the side of the bed and tugged Ziva along with him, keeping a tight hold on her hand. He led them out of their bedroom and through the hallway, both halting for a second to listen for suspicious sounds in either child's room, then quietly crept into the bathroom. Snapping the door carefully shut behind them, Tony immediately turned around and pressed his lips against hers. Ziva, in turn, resumed her position from before, burying her hands in his hair while their tongues entangled in hungry repartee. Tony drove his palms up and down the side of her body, at one point coming to rest on top of her shoulders. With a flick of his fingers he disposed of the straps of her nightgown and Ziva took a momentary step backwards to discard of it entirely.

Not long after they had shed all of their clothes, Tony lifted Ziva up and as one they stepped into the shower. He braced a hand against the shower wall, and Ziva reached for the faucet, sprinkling them both with water. She laid her head back, allowing the stream to wash over her auburn curls. Tony used his free hand to brush back strands of damp hair from her face, tilting his head down to kiss a trail up and down her neck, collarbone, shoulder. He then used the tip of his index finger to trace the scars on her chest and torso, before marking each and every one with his lips, planting a gentle kiss against them. When he returned to her face, she could see the smile on his lips. It wasn't a sensual smile, not even so much a passionate one. It was his smile.

"You stay", she stated, locking eyes with him.

He leaned in for a kiss to her lips. "I stay. Always. I stay."

Ziva nodded, believing him. She linked her arms behind his neck as they became one, slowly rocking against each other to the quiet spray of early morning water.

They stayed in the shower for a while afterwards, just looking at each other, studying each other. When they stepped back out, things hadn't changed, the world hadn't magically become an easier one to live in, their problems hadn't ceased to exist. But it didn't seem just as hard, for a moment, it didn't seem just as hard. They got dressed in their night clothes again with the occasional kiss in-between and, without taking no for an answer, Tony had it declared breakfast-in-bed day. When Ziva moved to accompany him downstairs, however, he held her back, gently, by the hand, and drew her into him for another kiss.

"You take the bed-part, I take breakfast", he ordered with a smile, sending her off to their bedroom without allowing a word of protest. She didn't find it in herself to fight him today anyway.

It was still earlier than usual, but both kids were roused from their slumber independently from one another. David stepped out first and, as was his routine on school days, he didn't even bother to look around in his parents' bedroom. His mom would surely be already awake. When he found his dad busying himself in the kitchen, however, he was left momentarily rooted to the floor, a bewildered expression on his face.

"Morning, big guy", Tony called out with a smile, noticing his son a second later. He came over for his morning hug and ruffled the little boy's hair, figuring he couldn't much ruin his style anymore anyway.

"Are you making breakfast? Where's mom?", David asked, rubbing the last bit of sleep from his emerald eyes.

"We're doing breakfast in bed, today", Tony declared, wiggling a fork into the eight-year-old's direction.

David wrinkled his nose. "Why?"

"Let this be your lesson for the day, my son", Tony proclaimed with added grandeur and a lot of arm-flaring. "Sometimes you have a reason, sometimes you don't. Breakfast tastes the same anyway."

David chuckled and quickly offered his help as sous chef, while upstairs Tali was finally feeling awake enough to leave the warmth of her bed and start her track down the hall.

"Tali", Ziva called out when her eyes fell on the little girl through the crack of the door.

"Mama?", Tali asked drowsily and with obvious surprise, peeking into her parents' bedroom.

"Come here", Ziva beckoned and Tali's legs almost flew out from under her as she took a running jump onto her parents' bed. Ziva chuckled at her daughter's antics, and opened her arms for Tali to snuggle into. "What are you doing awake already, tateleh?"

"Is it still early?", the five-year-old-asked, rolling her eyes up at Ziva.

"Yes. You could have at least slept for another half an hour", Ziva explained, laughing out loud when Tali slumped back against her with an exasperated sigh.

"That mean you go for a run now?", Tali asked quietly after a while, draping her mother's arm even tighter around her body to emphasize how not-okay she would be with that.

"No, tateleh, I am not going for a run today", Ziva admitted, planting a kiss on top of the little girl's hair. "Instead, your daddy is preparing breakfast in bed right now."

That got Tali's full attention again. She looked up at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

Ziva smiled. "Yes, really."

"In bed?"

"Yes, here in our bed."

"Maybe waking up early's not so bad", Tali exclaimed, a wide grin on her face.

Ziva couldn't hold back a chuckle. For a moment things appeared so perfectly fine to Ziva. Engulfed in the moment with her little girl, she could forget that things were complicated, and that things were happening. Leave it to Tali to let the good shine through the clutter that was life. Her little girl certainly was the most physically affectionate person Ziva could imagine, and that was saying something considering that Abby was her best friend. While it was entirely David to talk about the things that were worrying him at some point, it was entirely Tali to just cuddle up to either one of her parents, let herself be held and let them take comfort in holding her. Sometimes, Tony and Ziva had realized, Tali's way of tackling the world made her appear younger to people, more innocent. But, damn it, if it were up to Ziva to decide - and life didn't have such a big say in it, at that - she wanted desperately for Tali to hold on to that, to stay just like that, and to become the kind of person that could be like that.

Maybe, Ziva thought, she could be strong, strong enough for her children, maybe it would all work out in the end. Or maybe she had just gotten very good at ignoring what lay glaring before her.

Tony entered the room to the sight of his daughter wrapped into Ziva's arms; a sight that warmed his heart, and made him believe that things would work out, just because they had what they had. "You're served, M'Ladies", he announced, feeling bad for breaking up that moment between mother and daughter, but adamant they were in for many more of them.

Tali instantly perked up, and Ziva greeted him with a mesmerized smile. The tray in Tony's hands was stacked with a batch of pancakes, scrambled eggs, coffee, tea, juices. David was hot on his father's heels, carrying additional plates and cutlery. Tony quickly excused himself again, running back downstairs to fetch the second tray. When he returned Ziva and the kids had already reallocated things, also making good use of their nightstands. Tali was sitting beside Ziva, a tray already standing in front of them. Tony settled down on his side of the bed and put the second tray down in front of him, David perched in-between his parents. They watched their kids starting to dig into breakfast, occupying their every thought with requests, stories and plans for the day. Life was good, right now, life was good.

When plates were cleared and glasses empty, Tony leaned over for a kiss to Ziva's lips. "So, routine Friday?"

She smiled. "Yes, please."

Tony nodded and quickly ushered the kids out of their bed. David soon got started on his bathroom routine with little disgruntlement while Tony proceeded to clear away the remnants of breakfast. Ziva meanwhile took care of Tali, who had found herself liking their new morning concept and wasn't at all happy that she had to leave her parents' bed to go to school. Eventually, Ziva's promises of a new day appeased the little girl and she readily complied with being dressed in one of her favorite new outfits. After briefly checking on David, Ziva had gotten herself ready, hurrying through her routine steps in the bathroom and in front of her closet - that is, until she passed the mirror in the hallway. She stopped for a moment, taking a stand in front of it. She took in her appearance, the pants she had put on without thinking twice about it and the new top and jacket she had bought only a few days ago. She had pulled her hair back in a clip, a few loose strands framing her face. This was how she would look today, at the office. This was how she would look when her mother saw her again. This was the Ziva she had become, thirty years after Eliana had put out the shirt and dungarees eight-year-old Ziva had worn the day her mother had left her.

"Change of plans, sweet cheeks. Vance left a message, called me in for a meeting", Tony informed her absently, his eyes still glued to his phone as he came up the stairs. When she failed to respond, however, he looked up. He saw her standing there, a faraway look on her face, and instantly felt worried. "Ziva?", he asked tentatively, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Ziva jerked out of her stupor. Putting on a smile, she turned to look at him. "So, we take the kids to school together. Nothing else must change."

Tony frowned at her for a second, searching her eyes for her thoughts. There really was nothing he could say. "As you wish."

* * *

><p>After they had dropped the kids off at school, Tony and Ziva had found themselves standing in front of their building at the Navy Yard. Tony could sense that Ziva was hesitating, but he decided not to question it, and not to push it. But he also didn't leave her side as they stopped over in the bullpen and casually went along as Ziva set out for the break room.<p>

"You do not have to escort me to the vending machines, Tony", Ziva quipped, reaching into her pocket for some change.

He smiled a good-natured smile, then leaned down, close to her ear. "You have no idea what I think I have to do for you", he whispered.

"And I love you for that. But right now, I do not know what to think, or what to do really", Ziva said quietly, reaching over to retrieve the oversized _CafPow_ cup. "So, let us try routine for now. Please?"

He remained by her side for a moment longer, walking beside her and studying her features. "Okay", he conceded, leaning over for a kiss before turning on his heel and walking up the stairs.

On the walkway he found Eliana David, watching. Tony glanced over his shoulder, just in time to see an unassuming Ziva step into the elevator. He turned back around and frowned at the older woman, deciding to just let her be. When he continued on his way to Vance's office, however, he soon realized she was following him. So, this was what their meeting was going to be about. Cynthia waved them through. Director Vance was sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and reading. He looked up when they entered.

"Right on time."

Tony nodded vaguely and took a stand by the door, folding his hands behind his back and straightening up. Eliana walked to the other side of Vance's desk and halted there. Both were looking at Vance expectantly.

"I guess, formal introductions are in order", Vance started, getting up from his chair. He gestured towards each of them. "Eliana David. Supervisory Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

Eliana turned and held out her hand. "Tony", she said. She tried to sound quietly assured, but Tony recognized the look in her eyes, Ziva's look. There was so much more going on behind the exterior.

Tony hesitated for a second. She should be more than a name, shouldn't she? Finally, he took her hand and shook it. "Eliana."

"Now that that's out of the way", Vance continued, bracing his arms against the wooden surface of his desk. "You will work together. Mrs. David is fulfilling the function of a bilaterally accredited consultant. Mrs. David, Agent DiNozzo is in the lead on this. You are part of _his_ team and _his_ investigation. Do you appreciate what that means?"

"Of course", she answered at once.

Vance looked over at Tony, a questioning look in his eyes. "All in the clear, Director", Tony responded, taking a step forward. "For all intents and purposes, Eli David-"

"Eli's gone back down the rabbit hole, I'm afraid", Vance remarked, straightening up. "But, knowing him, he'll resurface sooner or later."

"On his own terms."

"As always."

"Well, then", Vance concluded, sitting back down. "Get me results."

"On it."

Tony was already halfway out the door by then, nodding at Cynthia before exiting the office. Outside, however, he waited a few seconds and once Eliana had closed the door behind her, he grabbed her and led her to the side, to the only corner on the upstairs walkway that he had found early in his career as an NCIS Agent was a blind spot for all the in-house surveillance cameras.

He didn't allow Eliana's perturbed expression to linger for long. "Listen to me", he started, his voice quiet but firm. "I love your daughter, I love her more than my own life and I sufficiently proved that in the past. I also proved that I wouldn't allow anything or anybody to hurt her. I failed to keep that promise in the past. But I'm a quick learner, get my drift?"

Eliana freed herself from Tony's grip on her upper arm and straightened up. "I think I do", she returned softly.

He nodded. "Good. So, here's the deal. There's no way we can just ignore this thing that we have here. We need to work together on this. And we all have a very special interest in getting this done, quick and clean. Everything else, though, is up to Ziva", his eyebrows rose as he added, "You won't push her on this, is that clear?"

A small smile erupted on Eliana's face as she nodded. "I have been told as much."

Tony frowned. "Gibbs?"

"I believe so. And Ducky."

"Well, I'm not the only one who loves your daughter around here."

"I have the gift of sight, Tony", she said, her head slightly tilting to the side. "And, to get this out in the open as well: I won't tell her you just went behind her back to protect her."

Tony couldn't suppress a chuckle upon that very true assertion. He was about to get to that. "She tends to forget that she really appreciates it."

Eliana nodded again, and took a step towards him. "I have not come to hurt her, Tony", she assured him.

Tony scoffed. "I doubt that was even a choice to make."

She slightly shook her head. "I would not have come at all, if it could have been avoided. But to assure her safety, _your_ safety, I had to come clean."

"She was put through a world of hurt before. And you won't be the straw that breaks her. I won't allow it."

"Well, then, that makes two goals we share."

"We'll see about that", Tony countered in a low voice, already turning to leave. "Eleven hundred, squadroom. Be there."

* * *

><p>When someone held out a <em>CafPow<em> over Abby's shoulder and she turned around to offer an appreciative smile to her morning supplier, a mixture of surprise and worry etched itself onto her face as her eyes fell on Ziva. She took the _CafPow_ from her friend's hand, but didn't give it another glance. Her eyes remained on Ziva. "I didn't think you would-"

"Seeing as I have no idea how to deal with this, we are trying routine", Ziva declared evenly. "Everything as it was, except for my dead mother walking around the office."

Abby tried hard to suppress the startled laughter that was tickling at the back of her throat. "So, black humor's part of the routine now, too?"

Ziva clicked her tongue, tilting her head to the side. "Whatever works."

Abby smiled, appreciating the movie reference that was a subtle part of Ziva's answer. "Would it be too cliché to ask you how you feel?"

Ziva shrugged her shoulders. "Not if I have no answer to give you."

Abby nodded in understanding. "Routine it is. I can do that", she remarked, catching the straw of the cup with her lips and taking a long sip, the edges of her mouth curling upwards.

Ziva appreciated the change of demeanor. "How was dinner yesterday?", she inquired, perching on the edge of the evidence table beside her friend. "Tali and David were good, I hope?"

"Perfect angels", Abby answered quickly, a grin erupting on her face. "But I'm getting the feeling that our girls will soon team up to become an inseparable ball of cuteness-"

"And energy", Ziva put in with a smile, her eyebrows still rising at the thought of that dangerous combination of cuteness and all sorts of mischief.

"I can't believe how much I'm looking forward to it", Abby grinned.

Ziva wanted to issue a _'You just wait'_, but she couldn't bring herself to. After all, Abby was right. As much as it saddened her when Tali didn't need her help with something anymore, or David read Hebrew all by himself, or one of them let go of her hand more readily to leave for school or friends' houses - she was just as much looking forward to the people she could see them becoming as they grew older.

"So, you think that the thing with Liora's birth father is finally over?", Ziva asked tentatively, remembering that she had promised herself to ask and make sure.

Abby nodded, if hesitantly. "Nolan didn't contact us again. Tim called Deb the other day at the Adoption Agency, but she said she hadn't heard back from him either", she recounted. "But there's no way we're giving Liora away, so he can call all he wants."

Ziva smiled at the determination ringing through Abby's voice. "After all, who would provide group entertainment then?", Ziva quipped, trying to switch to a happier topic again.

Whenever they were getting together as a group, Tali and Liora would put on a show for all of them, singing or dancing or enacting make-believe worlds. Sometimes, when they were particularly engrossed in a performance, they would even get David to join them.

"Ah, the welcome-home party!", Abby cheered, clapping her hands. "Everything's arranged."

Ziva had taken David's suggestion from two nights ago very seriously, because she had seriously found it to be a wonderful idea at that. She had called Abby the next morning, before the whole Eliana-storm had broken loose, and Abby had instantly fallen in love with the idea as well. Of course, she had quickly inflated the thought to Abby-esque proportions, making it a full-blown gathering at Gibbs' house to celebrate his and Ducky's return. They would surprise the two of them here at the office, with the kids and Palmer's family and all the works, and while they were going to keep them occupied, the guys would leave and set everything up at Gibbs' place with the balloons and streamers and food that Abby had stacked up at their apartment.

"I am sorry Tony and I couldn't be of more help", Ziva apologized. They had actually promised to cook, but things had come to a head, and now Breena had stepped in for dessert and Abby had hired a caterer.

Abby waved her off. "Do I have to repeat my little speech?"

"No, Abby, I heard you just fine the first time around", Ziva conceded, smiling at her friend.

They stayed silent for a while, both thrown back into the midst of what was happening around them. Of course, they could put reality off for the few minutes it took to take a shower, or for the few hours of a party. But things were happening around them, regardless.

"David can sense that stuff is going on", Abby remarked.

Ziva set her forehead in wrinkles. "Because of how he behaved at dinner?"

"Because of the questions he asked", Abby explained, speaking softly. "And the things he's picked up on. Like you and Tony fighting, or you feeling sad, or Tony feeling worried. Gibbs back at work here."

"Yes, I know", Ziva sighed.

"You can't really keep anything from him, can you?"

"Which makes me think that Tony and I will have to tell them…_something_ and soon", Ziva conceded, her eyes gaining a faraway look. "But I do not know how to go about that yet."

* * *

><p>At around half past ten the two women left the lab to go upstairs, smiles on their faces. An hour ago McGee had popped in to inform them that Liora was now only wearing orange, and if that couldn't be arranged, she decided she would only step outside if she had at least something orange on her somewhere. He had sighed exasperatedly, he had lamented, but deep down, they knew, he always seemed more at ease after a morning alone with his little girl.<p>

They had barely stepped out of the elevator when Ducky turned up at their side, stopping them short. "Ziva, may I whisk you off to the corner for a moment?", he requested, already holding out his hand.

"Whisk away, Duckman", Abby said, letting go from where she had wrapped an arm around Ziva's shoulder and gave the two a little privacy with one last questioning look into Ziva's direction.

Ducky quickly ushered her towards the corner beneath the stairs. "What is it, Ducky? You look serious", Ziva asked, alarmed by the older man's suspicious behavior.

"Ziva…", he started, fixing her with his eyes. "I do not want you to hear it through the grapevine that your mother and I, _accidentally_ might I add, met up this morning."

"How-"

"She was wandering the grounds and stumbled into the autopsy room where I was preparing a report for Anthony."

"Oh", Ziva exclaimed, his previous sentences finally making sense. "Alright."

"We talked."

"I assumed as much."

"Rest assured that I have not told her anything that is yours to share. I just caught her up to speed, as they say", he clarified quickly, a worried look in his eyes.

"Ducky, please", Ziva stopped him, a small smile on her face. "I have no idea what I want to tell her and what I do not want to tell her, what she deserves to know or if she deserves to know anything at all. I have no idea. So, whatever it is that you told her- I trust your judgement, Ducky. I do."

Ducky smiled, tension in his shoulders finally relaxing. "I just thought that you had enough to deal with already."

"I am very glad you are back", Ziva declared offhandedly, stepping forward to embrace him. "I have not told you so yet. I know you think that you are not needed here anymore, but you are needed much more than you think."

"That is a keen observation. Thank you", he smiled, returning her hug. When they broke apart, he once again took to studying her with his eyes, though. "How are you?"

"I am fine-"

"Oh, Ziva. Nobody can be just _fine_ with what is happening around here."

Ziva laughed slightly at this. She sighed, and looked around for words. When she finally turned back to look him in the eye, she relented, "I am confused."

Ducky nodded. "It might not feel that way, but this is the first step. Just give yourself the time to make up your mind. You have time now, Ziva. You have time to make your decisions."

She offered him a half-smile. "I am trying, Ducky. I really am."

Again, Ducky looked at her for a few moments. "And medically?"

"Ducky… I told you before, I am fine", she breathed. "And this time I mean it."

He remembered the emails they had exchanged throughout his journey and how often he had asked her about the operation. She had told him she was fine, each and every time. He couldn't quite believe her, though. "I simply wanted to look you in the eye at least once when you told me", he said.

"I am fine", she reiterated, putting particular emphasis on every word as her eyes bore into his. "It was a hysterectomy. I will live."

Ducky's forehead creased with wrinkles. "We both know what more there is to it. And I am so sorry that I could not be here to-"

"Dr. Bennett took care of it, Ducky, in your place. He had your blessing, there was nothing I could have been afraid of", Ziva cut in forcefully. "You were right, Tony was right. There is no way I would foolishly risk leaving him, or leaving the children. I was right to do it. If anything, all this has proven to me that it was the right choice to make."

It was the right choice, she knew that, but it hadn't been an easy one. She had talked to both Ducky and Dr. Bennett about it, who had both given her the option for a hysterectomy considering the extensive scarring, her hormonal imbalances, future risks, and two previous high-risk pregnancies. It had taken Tony and her half a year of on-off discussion and two days of experiencing another pregnancy-scare, until she had finally decided to go through with it. Unfortunately, a case had demanded her full attention at that time and Bennett had been indisposed for a while afterwards and eventually they had had to reschedule the operation to a time when Ducky had already left. But everything had gone well, and Ziva now merely experienced odd days when the realization of never being able to have more children hit her with a pang of pain. She did have David and Tali already, and they were a blessing. In the end, there was nothing more to hope for.

"Well, then we have no more reason to keep the others waiting", Ducky concluded, offering a smile that Ziva gladly returned.

They entered the bullpen together, finding everyone else already waiting for them indeed. Abby and McGee were each leaning against his desk, Ducky joined Palmer at the spare desk on the right, Eliana was standing in front of Tony's and Tony himself had taken to the middle of the bullpen. Ziva went over to her desk, taking a stand next to Gibbs, who had a crooked smile playing on his lips.

"Finally, the talk show host DiNozzo always wanted to be", he whispered to Ziva, responding to her smile with a small laugh.

Tony called them all to attention with a flick of his finger, pulling up the pictures of Arik Nadiv and Kadeer Haswari on the plasma behind him and adding to them the autopsy pan shot of Nuri Bakr's corpse.

"This is who we're up against", he started, his voice more solemn and down-to-business than that of any talk show host around. "Three men out for revenge on you, Eliana."

Eliana, suddenly faced with everyone's probing gazes, merely nodded her head, folding her hands in front of her body.

"Thanks to Ian Johnston NCIS got involved to stop them", Tony continued, turning to look at each and every one of them. "Before, it was a personal thing. After they killed an innocent man, it was the right thing to do. Since today at eight forty-two in the morning, it's our sworn duty."

It took a while to register with them. Ziva was the first to understamd. "Johnston-"

"-is dead. Yes", Tony confirmed. "Multiple organ failure. Got the official note an hour ago."

"When's the funeral?", McGee asked.

"Monday afternoon", Tony said, nodding. "So, let's get to work, people. Campfire style. Palmer, you're up."

"I did an autopsy on Bakr's body and I can confirm the witness statements", Palmer clarified, shoving his glasses a little up on the bridge of his nose. "The wound was self-inflicted. Single gunshot to the head, bullet entered the brain through the temporal lobe and went in an upwards trajectory through the frontal lobe. Death was almost immediate."

"Anything else notable?"

"Only that I can equally confirm Abby's previous conjecture as to his spasticity disorder. At the time of his death he was probably suffering from early onset withdrawal from his meds", Palmer continued.

"No other clues whatsoever."

"I'm afraid not."

"Abby?", Tony called her up.

"I processed his clothing, stomach content, blood works", Abby rattled off, shooting up into a standing position. "Nothing much I can add, though. I can tell you from the exposure rate to the black mold that they were probably holed up in that basement for about a week."

"That's about the time we cut them off from Cooper's apartment."

"Yep."

"So, how about that, Ducky?", Tony turned towards the older man, an inquisitive look in his eyes.

Ducky cleared his throat. "I am not nearly finished with my extensive profile. What I can proffer, however, and what I believe is irking you, Anthony, concerns that safe house."

"Nail on the head, Duckman."

Ziva nodded. "Why did they choose an apartment that was directly linked to Cooper?"

"Well, my dear, exactly _because_ it was directly linked to Cooper. Thus it was linked to Marlowe Grady as much as it was linked to the very act that motivates and _justifies_ their actions for them", Ducky explained. "You have to think of it as a charging station for their ultimate goal."

"And because it was Baila Eshel who set it up for them", McGee added, drawing all eyes on him, especially Ziva's.

Tony, in turn, knew to search for Ziva's eyes and to provide the answer to the questions in them. "I had Tim deal with the Mossad liaison assigned to us by Eli or by whoever the puppet is that he has talking in his place", he clarified, shooting a quick glance at Eliana. "He also cross-checked your story while he was at it."

"There is not much left to check up on", Eliana countered slowly.

"You wouldn't believe it, there's enough", Tony rebuffed. "Your fingerprints, your DNA-"

"I drank from that glass voluntarily."

"Ari's medical records, Kadeer's medical records and Mossad's super-secret Kidon files", Tony continued, his voice strangely even. "All very covert and shush-shush, of course. The puppet was very forthcoming. I doubt she will live very long after that."

Eliana's eyebrows rose slightly. "Did I pass?"

Tony blinked. "Just needed to be sure. We could still go dig up dead bodies, of course, but that would be going a little overboard, I think." He held Eliana's stare for a moment longer, then turned to look at Ziva, finding her eyes dangerously narrowed. "I needed to be sure", he repeated.

"And your need for certainty came before my need to be told?", Ziva asked in a low voice.

"It had to be done, and quickly. I couldn't have you contact Mossad, Ziva, not with that last name", Tony defended, sticking by his decision.

Ziva was about to speak more of her mind on that matter, but she suddenly felt her hand being enclosed by a bigger one. Glancing down, her palms still braced against her desk, she noticed Gibbs' hand on top of hers. She lifted her eyes into those of her mentor and he looked back at her. "His damn job", he mumbled, tilting his head a little to the side.

Ziva's jaw was still clenched, but she nodded and turned around, facing McGee now. "What was that about Baila and the safe house?"

"As Eli's assistant she had access to some of Mossad's safe houses, some still in use, some lying dormant", he explained, eager to get on with the campfire talk. "Dormant ones are less likely to need double, triple or quadruple verifications. She was obviously in a hurry, too."

"Any word on where she is now?"

"Officially she's MIA. But Mossad positively placed her in one of the cars that exploded two weeks ago in Tel Aviv", McGee continued. "The explosion that Eli supposedly died in."

Tony scoffed. "People getting resurrected left and right."

"I doubt Baila had quite the same backup plan as my father", Ziva mused.

"So, what now?", Gibbs cut in, asking the quintessential question.

"Now", Eliana spoke up, and the bullpen went almost silent to the ring of her voice. "Kadeer and Arik will lay low. They will have pitched their new camp by now and they will start prepping for a plan they have had at the back of their minds for a long time."

"And what plan might that be?"

"I have no idea", Eliana admitted. "But I expect it to be even more dangerous for all of us now that they feel cornered."

* * *

><p>Following the campfire and the word of caution Eliana had issued, Tony had them all go on high-alert protocol; which meant spare guns and backups in reach, special emphasis on Rule #35, secure lines in and out of the office, and bi-hourly checkups. For a moment there, the thought of canceling the welcome-home party had hung in the air above all those who knew about it. However, silently, they agreed that celebrating their family was exactly what this situation needed them to do right now.<p>

Eliana had quietly left the bullpen when conversations had started to drift off into more personal territory - topics she had no business partaking in. Not even half an hour later, however, she was standing face-to-face with her daughter, their meeting framed by the red walls of one of the subfloors in a side-building.

Eliana hadn't made it easy to be found. Ziva had actively sought her out. And now her daughter was staring at her with a stoic expression on her face, her hands folded in front of her body. "Tony has gone to pick up the kids", she asserted at once.

Eliana nodded, unable to make sense of that statement and choosing not to say anything at all.

"Our son had the idea of a welcome-home dinner for Gibbs and Ducky. They-"

"I know", Eliana cut in softly. "I have been told who they are."

Ziva nodded. "Abby made it happen."

A small smile flashed across Eliana's features. "She seems like the kind of person who would."

"We will surprise them here, with the children present", Ziva continued evenly. "Abby and Tim have a little daughter, Liora. She is coming here as well."

Finally, it dawned on Eliana. She couldn't deny the slight pang of disappointment. "And you would like me to stay away", she clarified.

Ziva straightened up, her eyes not leaving her mother's. "We have not decided yet what, and _if_, we want to tell the kids. And given that my daughter has already seen you once, it would only confuse her-"

"There is no need to explain yourself to me, Ziva", Eliana relented. "I will keep my distance." And she meant it as a general promise, too.

Ziva nodded affirmatively, and then turned to walk away.

"But I _am_ here, whenever-"

"I don't know yet", Ziva whirled back around, her eyes narrowed. "I don't know _what_ I feel, or how I _should_ feel. There is little precedence for this."

Eliana held up a hand. "You are right. I am sorry."

Ziva nodded again, turned around again and started to take a few steps down the hall. A few feet later she stopped hard in her tracks. She sighed. "I am raising my children differently, different from the way I have been raised."

"I know", Eliana confirmed quietly, surprised by her daughter's add-on.

"They are not raised Mossad."

"I know."

And once again Ziva turned around. This time, however, a solemn expression had settled on her face. "They have not been raised to check every corner of a room. They would not expect that anyone could wish them any harm. They would not expect that it would be they who are being watched."

Mother and daughter looked at each other for a long time, until Eliana took the hint, a small smile erupting on her face. "Todah, Ziva."

Ziva nodded and went up the stairs, this time for good.

Eliana was left with the echo of her daughter's footsteps and a small, delicate plan. A few minutes later she set out for the NCIS building and eventually placed herself on the upstairs walkway on the side of Vance's office. Once again, she was relegated to watching, watching scenes and families unfold, while she stood back.

She watched her daughter's face light up when her children came running towards her - David and Tali, she knew now. She watched Tony DiNozzo's arm slung around her daughter's waist. She watched the knowing smiles her daughter shared with Abby when Tali and Liora started hiding out behind one of the spare desks, guarded by orange partitions. She watched her grandson, David, deliver a message to Gibbs, and Gibbs' face erupt in a grin that was so dissimilar to the demeanor he had shown towards her. She watched as Tony, McGee and Palmer left with see-through excuses. She watched as Ducky was led away to the elevators by Abby and Gibbs was dragged after them by Tali and Liora each holding on to one of his hands. She watched a content smile settle firmly on Ziva's face as her daughter watched all this unfold as well. And she watched as Ziva wrapped an arm around David's shoulder and set out after them.

When the bullpen was finally empty, silence and Eliana remained.

* * *

><p><em>So much for setting up the second part of this story. What to expect: memories of Ziva's past, angst, Eli's return, death, family moments, 'I love you's, suprise twists, heart-to-hearts and lots of character goodness.<em>


	26. Yearning for Eternal Sun

_In a bid to emphasize how past and present, reality and memories, are merging at this point in the story - in particular for Ziva - this is a special Intermezzo-chapter. It is set in the present, as you can see, but it is just as much about the past (memories in italics). - Thank you for your thoughts!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 26 Intermezzo - Part 4<br>**_or: Yearning for Eternal Sun_

**Saturday, April 3****rd**** 2021**

It was the beginning of April and the sun was finally gaining strength. It was fairly warm, people were walking around with their jackets half-open, their scarfs loosened and their hats and gloves tucked away in their pockets and bags. The more daring of them were wearing only sweaters, blazers, welcoming the end of onion-season with a profound shout-out to the warmth. For Ziva, being Tali's mother, that meant more space, more air and a greater variety of activities, with which to exhaust the five-year-old's energetic nature.

That morning, Tony and David had invited McGee to some sports event Ziva had not had the patience to fully understand despite Tony's innuendo. Tali had begged her to go to the park and Ziva couldn't object. She could; of course, she could. They were on high-alert now and they needed to be overly cautious. But Ziva refused to let that rule their lives and she particularly refused to let that dim the excited expression on her five-year-old daughter's face.

That's why she was now sitting on a bench by the playground a few blocks down the street from their apartment, her eyes half-concentrating on the book she was reading and half-focused on Tali running and jumping and climbing. They had already taken a walk through the park, stopping at every animal, sign post or tree that had caught Tali's attention. Now it was almost time for lunch and Tali's energy was not waning.

Time and again Tali would glance over at her mother, ensuring that Ziva was still there. Whenever she did Ziva offered her an encouraging smile and Tali contentedly returned to her game. It seemed so easy at times. She would never be able to fathom the enormity of twists and turns that had led her life to this very stage, this very point in time when she could watch her five-year-old daughter play and be happy. She was lucky, she knew she was lucky. How different her life would have been if just for all that could have been.

_***…the ides of time…***_

_Sol smiled against her welcoming lips, his eyes dangling in hers. "You did good", he remarked, applying the smallest pressure to her bottom lip with his teeth._

_Ziva half-laughed and rolled both of them to the side so she was lying on top of him once again. "I will get back to you after I have seen to some other performances", she said, allowing her hand to wander down the side of his half-naked body, past his hips and to his crotch, zipping him back up for emphasis._

_A low scoff slipped from deep within his throat, before he linked his hands at the back of her neck and towed her lips back down on his. His left hand quickly cut loose from her unruly locks and found its way to one of the straps of her bra. His fingers skillfully wrapped around the soft fabric and slipped it past her shoulder blade. Her hand had just started out on a trail down his torso again, when suddenly the rear tailgate of the weapons carrier was flung open, exposing their play-by-play. _

"_Havram! David! What do you think you are doing?"_

_Both of their hands instantly stopped their designated task, but their mouths met in a last smile before they turned to face Niv Peled standing there, clad in his work uniform. Ziva quickly ducked to the side to retrieve her clothing from somewhere behind the crates lining up at the front of the bed. Crouching, she slipped on her shirt and threw the service jacket over her shoulder._

"_Not what… Whom", Ziva retorted with a smirk, jumping out of the car and coming to stand next to her operations officer of only a few months. She let her eyes roam his torso-area, briefly resting on the sling attached to his left arm - broken radius; her work._

"_That is not what I meant by 'taking ten'", Niv asserted, his lips aligning in a terse contour._

"_Come on, Peled. You know I can do more than that", Sol called out from where he was snapping the buckle of his belt shut, a knowing grin adorning his face._

"_I will deal with you later", Niv stated absently, turning back to face Ziva. "Adena."_

_Ziva was only just now alerted to her cousin's presence on the scene. Adena was older than her, her senior in Mossad. Her hair was a shade darker, shorter and her eyes were more grey than color, a typical feature on their mothers' side of the family - Eliana had been an exception, though. _

_Adena stepped out from behind their commanding officer and instantly stood at attention beside them. "Yes, Sir?"_

"_Escort Ziva to the hellhole. I will be there shortly to personally work on that smirk of hers."_

_Adena nodded her head obediently and set out towards the barracks. Ziva, her eyes narrowed, seized Niv up one last time, his expression unchanged, before she followed her cousin. The moment they were out of earshot, the thumping noise of what sounded like Niv slapping his point into Sol fading in the distance, a small smile appeared on Adena's face and she shook her head. _

_Ziva frowned, alerted to her cousin's change of demeanor in the corner of her eyes. "What?"_

"_Ziva David… This is just like you, sleeping with the team leader of another unit."_

_Ziva smirked, throwing her tousled hair into a messy braid. "Well, no way was it going to be Peled and the others are so-"_

"_Inexperienced?", Adena substituted with a laugh, her eyebrows slipping upwards._

_Ziva wrinkled her nose, her brows furrowing mischievously. "Uncreative." _

_Adena chuckled. Then her arm shot out, causing Ziva to stop hard in her tracks. She indicated a weathered looking building to the side, a barbed wire fence coating an area that stretched some length behind it. "We are here." She turned to leave. "Good luck."_

_Ziva snorted, putting on her jacket. "Luck is for those foolish enough to believe in fate."_

_***…the ides of time…***_

"Mommy, mommy, mommy!", Tali called out, jerking Ziva from her distal reverie. "Look what I found."

Ziva quickly blinked away the remnants of her memories, focusing back on her present, on her daughter. She looked down at the little girl and found her cradling a pinkish-white sea shell. "Look at that", Ziva observed reverently, cupping her daughter's hand with her own. "Where did you find it?"

Tali turned enough to point to an evident hole in the ground a little off the slides. "It's like we're at the beach again."

Ziva smiled at the distant amazement in her five-year-old's eyes. "Yes, like that one time with Saba Eli."

Tali nodded, her eyes quickly dropping back down to the wondrous item in her hand. "So pretty."

"Do you know that a sea shell can make you hear the sea?", Ziva asked, her eyebrows rising.

Tali looked up at her mother, her mouth gaping excitedly. "Really?"

"Bechayai." Ziva reached out and took Tali's hand in hers, guiding the dome of the shell to rest against Tali's ear. Pressing her index finger against her lips, she motioned for the little girl to be quiet.

After a while Tali's brown eyes widened in astonishment, a big grin settling on her face. "This is so cool!"

Ziva chuckled, always finding Tali's excitement to be wholeheartedly contagious. Suddenly, the little girl removed the shell from her ear and gently placed it in Ziva's free hand. "Do you not want it anymore?", Ziva asked.

Tali shook her head. "You keep it safe, mommy. I wanna show daddy and Deed when we get come."

"Yes, I will keep it safe", Ziva smiled, stowing it away in the pocket of her jacket with a bit of exaggerated décor.

"Todah", Tali exclaimed, stretching up to plant a quick kiss on Ziva's cheek before swirling around and running off to resume her game.

Ziva kept her eyes on her daughter, watching her play and smile. "I will keep you safe, Tali…"

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_Very good, indeed. I did not notice you until you had passed the ugly statue", Ari declared nonchalantly, not turning around to face her and not pausing from reading his book either._

_Ziva stopped hard in her tracks, a frustrated grunt leaving her lips. She turned briefly to assess the distance between herself and the statue. Ari was sitting at a small, neatly carved wooden table on the glass-coated patio, his back turned towards her. Since Eliana's death they hardly ever stayed at their townhouse in Tel Aviv anymore. Most of their days now were spent at Eli's apartment near city center or far away on training and school. But that spot had always been Ari's favorite. Their late mother's beloved library was leading out onto that patio. Ziva had come to a halt beneath the stucco arch interfacing the two rooms. The statue Ari was referring to was an old pinkish-red marble sculpture with no discernible shape or profile. Roughly four feet separated her from the family heirloom that was serving its time as a feebly loved decoration._

"_How do you do it?", Ziva growled in exasperation, plopping down on the couch behind him._

_He took his time to answer, first finishing the paragraph he had been reading. "You were too hesitant", he asserted, marking his current page before leaning around the back of his chair to look at her. His expression was stern but gentle. "Your movements have to be more systematic."_

_Ziva tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows rising. "That is new." She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. "Calling me hesitant."_

_A knowing smirk spread on Ari's face. _

_Eli had left three days earlier in order to attend a conference of sorts. Ziva had quickly requested leave for the duration of his week-long absence, so she could be with her sister. Sure, Tali was at school most of the day and the sixteen-year-old certainly did not have a particular need for either her big brother or her big sister to look after her, but it was a nice concept all by itself. They hardly ever got to spend time with each other anymore, now that Ziva and Ari were off 'working' most of the time. And even if Ziva was in Tel Aviv she was usually studying for exams. Equally, Ari had seized the family-opportunity and had put off his flight training in favor of holing up in the house he most vividly associated with a happier childhood, pretending only the part of him that was a brother existed. As Ziva was looking into his smirking face now, it was framed by more than three days' worth of stubble. She had always preferred this gruff look over his clean-shaven one. It made him look more relaxed and laid-back than he was ever allowed to be. Ziva smiled despite herself. It even rendered Ari's smile more radiant. _

"_You were not this hesitant to knock out that Rubinstein boy", Ari teased, his smirk persisting. "Again."_

_An appalled 'Ha' slipped from Ziva's lips and she slid forward on the couch. "That was not my fault", she declared. "He was hitting on Tali."_

_Ari chuckled. "Oh, well, of course! If it was for Tali-"_

"_He was being his obnoxious self. Our little sister was scared", Ziva explained, meaning every word. "You would have done the same."_

_Ari eyed her skeptically, his smirk having scaled down to a gentle smile. "You need balance, Ziva."_

"_Balance, you say?" _

_Ziva was just about to leap forward, a plan of attack quickly taking shape in her mind, and Ari's persistent smile all but certified that he was expecting her every move, when a sweeping detonation caused the crystal beads on the chandelier in the adjacent room to jiggle timidly._

_They arrived at the scene of destruction less than fifteen minutes later. Ziva's driving had taken them ahead of police cars and ambulances all around. They left the car somewhere outside the preliminary barriers that were proving to be anything but effective as of yet. Left and right, people were rushing towards what had been the old market and was now reminiscent of a war zone. Chaos was enlacing the city. Junks of brick and stone, formerly coating the walls of surrounding buildings, were littering the street. Thick waves of dust and powdered tiles were blinding them to the full scope of devastation._

_Ziva had unconsciously gripped Ari's hand, both trying to gain some sense of orientation. Through settling clouds Ziva spotted Tali's best friend staggering along the remnants of the explosion. _

"_Naamah!", she yelled, hurrying towards the girl, her hand slipping out of Ari's grasp. Ziva briefly turned back around to look into her brother's eyes, finding nothing but sheer disbelief. "Ari…", she said softly and he nodded, vanishing._

_The moment Ziva reached the girl she collapsed into the older woman's arms. Ziva tried to steady her, but it was no use. Naamah's legs were giving in. She had summoned all her strength to stay upright, flee, survive - now that she was safe, all strength was leaving her. Ziva gently steered her towards the nearest curbstone and lowered both of their bodies onto it. She brushed the girl's hair back from her face, finding it laced with cuts and caked-on blood. At that moment Ari reappeared and handed Naamah a bottle of water. She took it with a grateful nod, gulping down half of it before setting the bottle back down and trying to calm her own breathing. _

_As she watched the girl, knowing that it was she who usually accompanied Tali home from school, Ziva could hardly compose herself. Her insides were cramping up in dread. "What happened?", she asked, unable to hold back any longer. Ari shot her a brief glance._

_Naamah merely shook her head, taking a deep breath. "I have no idea… Tali and I-", she started, her voice low and quiet, "We were looking at some scarfs over by the fountain. She was just telling me…about you- your birthday present, when-"_

_Ziva's eyes had widened in horror upon hearing proof of her little sister's presence at the scene. Her heart started racing uncontrollably. "Tali. Where is Tali?"_

_Once again Naamah shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "I don't know… I was walking a little behind…looking…I-"_

_Ziva seized the girl's shoulders, shaking her. "Focus, Naamah! Where is Tali?", Ziva demanded._

_At once, Ari's hands were on top of hers. "Ziva-"_

_Ziva instantly let go of the fifteen-year-old and jumped to her feet. She couldn't stay here anymore. She had to find Tali. Ari watched her go, quickly taking Ziva's place beside Naamah and making sure she would receive medical attention soon._

_Meanwhile Ziva stormed towards where Naamah had come from, her eyes searching frantically for a sign of her little sister. She scanned every face that passed her by, took hold of every hand, every stone, every exposed rod that grazed her leg. She stumbled across the rubble. In the distance she heard people screaming, crying, yelling for help. There was blood on the street, on the corpses, on the injured. In the midst of the chaos embracing her every vein Ziva's eyes suddenly landed on shredded pieces of formerly colorful fabric sticking out from a heap of debris to her left. Scarfs._

_She immediately collapsed to her knees and started digging in her fingers, shoveling rocks and wood splinters and metal plates and the grain of destruction to the side with her bare hands, tearing her palms bloody. Her moves were getting more careful the more debris she cleared away, until her fingers suddenly grazed a familiar metallic thread. Ziva gave it a swift tug and there it was: a golden Magen David pendant - just like the one dangling from her neck._

"_No, no, no…no", Ziva chanted, her breaths starting to fail their own rhythm, batches of air sticking to the back of her throat. She repeated her mantra of denial, again and again, and again, again. The pendant was bloody, reddish yellow. Dull. _

_She needed to go further, she needed to go on. Enlacing a particularly big boulder at the top of the heap, her fingertips touched something soft. Gagging, she thrust the last bit of rubble aside and screamed. She scrambled back, away, her feet pushing against the compaction of debris, all the while wailing with pain and disbelief. All of a sudden strong arms wrapped themselves around her. Ari's arms._

"_Ziva… Ziva!", he breathed into her ear, holding her close._

_She buried her face and her eyes in his shoulder, her voice subsiding. "Tali", she croaked, tears streaming down her face without her noticing. _

_Ari swallowed the lump in his throat. He had never seen Ziva's eyes so clouded by anguish, by such pain. Not even their mother's death had encased her ambers with sorrow as excruciating as this. He felt tears stinging his eyes. He looked up, towards the top of the heap they were kneeling on. And there it was-_

_He felt sick. He buckled to the side, his arms sacking around Ziva as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the rubble supporting their despair. Ziva grabbed his hand, squeezing it so tight it hurt. She suddenly couldn't feel her heart beating anymore. She felt hollow with pain. She caught Ari's eyes as he was wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He was panting. Not letting go of Ziva's hand, he took a step forward, feeling the need to be sure, to be absolutely sure, and slightly tugging her along._

_But it was true, painfully true. There it was, enclosed in a grave of debris: Tali's head, severed from her sixteen-year-old body._

_***…the ides of time…***_

Ziva swallowed hard. She had gone back to that day in her mind more often than she liked to admit for the sake of her sanity. That day had changed everything all over again. Memories were seeping out of every pore in her brain lately. She laughed slightly to herself. _Wonder why..._

"Tali?", she called out, needing to hear herself speak her sister's name once again and needing to see her daughter, five years old and without a care in the world, jolt upright from where she had been playing on the edge of the sandbox and sprint towards her. Ziva laughed at the way the little girl's curls were swaying with the wind; a real, honest-to-joy laugh.

"Let's go lunch?", Tali asked with a hopeful glisten in her eyes.

Ziva chuckled. "Yes, let's lunch", she said, reaching over to dust some of the leftover sand off of Tali's pants and glad that she had knowingly opted for an old pair for their trip to the park.

Together they skipped off, Tali bouncing along with Ziva's hand tightly clasped around hers. At their lunchtime venue Tali kept Ziva entertained with her thoughts on how the rehearsals for their end-of-the-year play were coming along, seeing as they had rehearsals every Friday and Tali had just completed the first one in full gear and costume.

At one point, however, Tali fell strangely silent. Ziva couldn't hold back a smile when she recognized the striking similarities between her daughter's and Tony's thinking face. "Mommy?", she blurted out, catching Ziva's attention with her big brown eyes.

"Yes, tateleh?"

"I ate with you alone two times now, right?", the little girl asserted with a frown on her face, holding up two fingers for emphasis.

"Yes", Ziva confirmed with a smile. "Today and when we went shopping together."

The five-year-old tilted her head to the side, the plastic fork in her hand dangling in mid-air. "So, you gotta go eat lunch with Deed soon now, too. Just you and Deed", she declared, nodding affirmatively at her own assertion and eventually returning to her plate.

Ziva couldn't suppress a proud smile. Back when Tony had been on assignment in Spain she had always had the hardest time with trying to keep her promise of dividing her attention equally between both of her children. It had been among the hardest things to do, and she had often found herself stretched thin with her own frustrating inability to just duplicate herself. Upon Tony's return they had shifted approaches and taken to emphasizing one-on-one time. There were special things each of the kids would do with Tony, and special things they would do with Ziva. During joint trips they would just split up, or they would actually take a half-day or day and do entirely separate things. It didn't preclude moments of jealousy altogether, but it did the trick most of the time.

Ziva reached out a hand and caressed Tali's soft curls. "Yes, I should", she confirmed, not wanting to dim her daughter's moment with the fact she had spent an entire evening alone with David going through photo albums. "That is very thoughtful of you, tateleh."

Tali smiled a toothy smile. "Then daddy and I can go see the clowns and kitties again. We can, right, mommy?", she asked, a hopeful look once again settling in her eyes.

Ziva chuckled slightly. _'Clowns and kitties'_, so that's what was interesting about a circus now. "Yes, tateleh, you can."

"Yes!", Tali exclaimed triumphantly.

Ziva just watched her daughter dig into her plate, patiently waiting for the moment when the little girl would be requesting ice cream for dessert that Ziva would have a parental field day reasoning out of her, given that she had already had some during their shopping trip a few days ago. They were growing up, her kids were growing up; and things had definitely changed.

_***…the ides of time…***_

_Tony and Ziva were sitting on the floor in the living room of their apartment, opposite from each other, a board game of sorts lying between them. They were watching with matching smiles as David kept scurrying around, dividing his attention between the game, his parents and the rules he apparently was making up on the spot. Ziva was leaning up against the couch, a pillow supporting her lower back. Once again she fended off one of Tony's concerned glances with a small smile. She tried to be annoyed at his loving attention that was at times bordering on overbearing. Yet, she couldn't deny that her body wasn't the fittest one after all that she had gone through and giving birth certainly wasn't among the least stressful activities. Right now, however, she just enjoyed spending time with her family._

_David was just handing her a stack of cards and explaining their meaning in a jumble of excitement, when a sudden wave of fussing erupted from the baby monitor on the table beside them, already interspersed with small yelps that would soon grow into full-fledged cries._

"_She is hungry", Ziva ascertained, looking up at Tony who had just hurriedly gotten to his feet._

"_Already on it", Tony said, taking two steps at a time on his sprint upstairs._

_Ziva somewhat clumsily dragged herself up from the floor with small twisting motions, realizing painfully that sitting on the floor hadn't been her most brilliant idea yet. She had just made it into an upright position, when David's eyes shot up at her. "Tali will just need to be fed, tateleh, and then we will continue our game, yes?", she explained sweetly, waiting for his nod._

_When the little boy did nod, however, Ziva didn't feel convinced of his understanding. He barely looked at her and remained seated beside the game, gathering up the cards Ziva had left on the floor. She sighed inwardly, but couldn't do much more now that Tony was already coming downstairs, an already wailing Tali cupped in his arms. He went over to Ziva, who was just getting comfortable on the couch, and gently placed the little girl into her mother's arms. Then he reached under the coffee table for the nursing pillow and handed it to Ziva, who quickly arranged the baby in her arms._

_Tali was having none of it, though. She had only one thing in mind and she made that known with sharp yaps, her small lips already rooting around Ziva's chest. "Just like her father", Ziva teased, swiftly unbuttoning her top and unhooking her nursing bra. Tali hungrily started to nurse._

"_Add to that her mother's determination and we're in for a wild, wild ride", Tony retorted, tenderly running the back of his index finger up and down the little girl's, _his_ little girl's, equally little upper arm. He was always amazed by how little, how very small, babies were. _

_Tali obviously didn't feel up for her father's caresses at that moment and slightly jerked her arm to the side, letting out an agitated yelp. "Don't distract her, Tony", Ziva warned with a smile, her eyes never leaving her little girl's face._

"_Maybe she really is like me", he quipped, sitting back and turning to the side. However, when he noticed David trying to fold up the game they had been playing, he got up and crouched down before his son. "Hey, buddy, you don't need to put it away."_

"_Do too", David countered sadly, still trying to figure out how to make the board small enough to fit into the box._

"_Your sister will be done eating soon and then we go on where we left off", Tony suggested, his eyes flickering to Ziva. "In fact, you and me can keep playing and your mommy will just jump right back in when she's done."_

_Tony sported an encouraging smile and Ziva tried to mirror it just in case while she tried shifting Tali to her other side, but David wasn't looking at them. Instead, he had finally mastered the art of folding a board game back up and put it into the box, snapping the lid shut on top of it. Then he picked it up and dutifully put it back into his big play box in the corner of the room. Without another glance he left to go upstairs, his small steps on the wooden treads echoing in the silent living room._

_Tony eyed Ziva wearily from his position on the floor. "I would go after him if it was me he wanted", he remarked with a small shrug._

_Ziva just smiled and nodded, focusing back on her daughter for now as Tony reclaimed the spot beside them. He put a hand on Ziva's thigh, stroking it lightly while watching his daughter nurse. When the little girl was done, he gently lifted her out of Ziva's arms and nodded towards the stairs. _

"_I'll take care of the rest, you settle the feud." He had a smile on his face as he got up with his daughter, but Ziva could see the glint of worry in his eyes. _

_It was only the fourth day that Tali was home with them. After all the complications she had faced during her first pregnancy, and giving birth to David, and given that her second pregnancy had been nothing short of a miracle, Ziva had been ordered to stay in the hospital for a full week after Tali's C-section. For a week it had been Tony and David, father and son, home alone. Tony had cut back on his hours at work, so he had been able to pick up David from preschool every day and visit Ziva and Tali in the hospital. David had been reasonably excited to get a little sister for quite some time, but of late that had changed. Being separated from his mommy like this had made him realize that he was not alone anymore and that he had to share both of his parents from now on. And now that they were back home it became even more obvious that life would be very different in the future._

_Ziva helped Tony arrange the burp cloth over his shoulder and left father and daughter to do their thing. Upstairs she gently opened the door to David's room. In the course of turning the storage room into a nursery for Tali they had also redecorated David's room: They had gotten a bigger bed, bought a real desk, put up shelves Gibbs had volunteered to make just like he had made most of the furniture in Tali's room. Now the little boy was sitting in the middle of the carpet he had chosen 'all by himself'. Its display of a scene of colorful and animated city life lent itself as a handy backdrop to all sorts of games. He was putting up little houses and shops along a large motorway that cut through the foreground, just to race past them afterwards, again and again, with a little blue toy Mustang._

_Ziva watched her son for a while with a smile on her face. She had missed him so much during the past week, having to lie in that hospital bed and having to wait for various tests to share their results with them. After what they had gone through with David she had been more than relieved to hear that Tali appeared to be perfectly healthy. She still had a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that she was a mother-of-two now - a realization in spite of her longtime belief that she would never get that idolized 'full package'. And she knew Tony was not nearly there yet either. She could still, and probably would for some time to come, detect the pure and wondrous amazement whenever he looked at their baby girl. How, then, could they expect their three-year-old son to come to terms with the unraveling and reconfiguration of his life any easier than they did?_

_Pushing herself away from the doorframe, Ziva finally stepped into the room. She sat down beside the three-year-old on the floor, but David did not move to acknowledge her in any way. Ziva had to hold back a smile: an eye for an eye, it was. _

_Eventually, she ran a hand down his light-brown mat of hair, gently caressing the base of his neck. "David?"_

_He remained silent for another few heartbeats before taking a deep breath. Without looking up at her, he declared, "She's always ruinin' stuff."_

"_Tali was hungry, tateleh", Ziva explained softly. "She is just a little baby, she does not do these things because she _wants_ to. She just knows how to tell us that she is hungry."_

"_She's always hungry", he lamented, rolling his eyes. _

_As far as he could tell, she really was. She had always been eating when he and his daddy had come to visit his mommy. The first time he had seen her eat, it had totally grossed him out, too. It looked like she was eating his mommy. His mommy and daddy had explained it afterwards, but that didn't really make it any less gross. Now, he was just severely annoyed by her constant need for food, or her need to be held, or her need to be put back to bed after waking up every two hours._

_Ziva laughed out loud upon his accusation. "She is just like your daddy, yes?", she concluded, eliciting a small, if involuntary, smile from her son._

_David kept quiet for a while after that, staring at the toy car in his hand. Ziva's hand rested on his back, patiently watching and waiting for him to come forward with his thoughts. When he rolled his eyes up at her, however, they were filled with sincere sadness. "You love her more'n me now?", he asked in a small voice._

_Ziva's heart almost broke at the sight of her son. Sure, she had read about sibling jealousy. Come to think of it, she had experienced sibling jealousy in all its behavioral glory growing up. But nobody and nothing had ever quite prepared her for the other side of the fence, for the reality of trying to keep the balance between your kids, treating them differently and all the same at the same time._

"_Come here, neshomeleh", she beckoned, opening her arms and giving him a reassuring smile. Feeling a little left out of motherly attention as of late, David gladly crawled into his mother's lap and rested his head against her chest. Ziva moved back a little to lean against his bed and wrapped her arms around her son, kissing his temple. "Your father and I, we love you so very, very much. Nothing and nobody will ever change that, do you understand?"_

_David nodded against her, but she could practically feel the disbelief radiating off of him. "We love you both, both you and Tali, and we will never love either one of you any more or any less than the other", Ziva tried again, cupping the three-year-old's chin in her hand so she could really look into his eyes._

"_But…everybody's doin' stuff wis her now", David whispered, snuggling deeper into Ziva's embrace as though he could keep her away from Tali if he just kept holding onto her hard enough._

_Ziva sighed inwardly. The last two days had been filled with welcome-home visits from their whole family, bearing gifts for the newest addition to their group and smothering the little girl with attention and wonderment. Even though they had all, upon Tony's and Ziva's expressive urging, been considerate enough not to leave David out of the loop, Tali had naturally been the center point of attention._

"_Well, tateleh, Tali is a baby. She cannot do anything by herself yet, so she needs your daddy and me to help her all the time for a while", Ziva explained, trying hard to phrase this in a way he would easily understand. "But you have gotten so big. You can do so many things by yourself now and I am so proud of you for that."_

_David's eyes narrowed in much the same way as her own frequently did. "So, you don' hafta help me no more?"_

_Ziva shook her head. "Of course we will help you whenever you need us to. It is just different. You see, you can eat all by yourself, you can even help me and daddy with lunch and dinner", she said. "But Tali does not know how to eat real food yet, so she needs me and your daddy. That is why it may seem like we do more stuff with your sister than we do with you, but really we just do different things."_

_That at least seemed to make sense and David nodded. "Can _you_ read me a story t'night?", he asked suddenly, looking up at her with big eyes._

_The past three nights the three-year-old's bedtime had either coincided with Tali's round of dinner or Ziva falling asleep way beforehand, exhausted from the additional stress on her still recuperating body. _

_Ziva smiled and nodded, leaning down to brush a kiss against his forehead._

_***…the ides of time…***_

Ziva barely remembered how Tali and she had gotten home after lunch. As much as she didn't want to admit that the risks their job entailed were once again severely impinging on their lives, and the lives of their children, but more than half of Ziva's attention was being used up by her senses running on high-alert, always listening harder, always looking a second time. It didn't help that her mind was swirling with memories today and that Tali kept happily narrating their every step. Quite suddenly, Ziva and Tali were standing in front of the door to their apartment, and Ziva had no idea how it had happened so fast.

Stepping into the foyer, mother and daughter instantly noticed Tony's and David's shoes. Ziva's forehead creased with a frown. They weren't supposed to come home until later in the evening. After she had quickly abided by Tali's impatient request and had handed her the sea shell she had found, Ziva discarded her keys and bag and followed the five-year-old inside.

"Look, Deed. Look what I found!", Tali squealed excitedly upon spotting her brother on a kitchen chair.

"It's just a sea shell, Tali", David remarked, looking seriously unimpressed. "We saw millions of those in Israel."

Tali grunted, jumping a little on the spot next to him. "Yeah, but look what mommy showed me", she exclaimed, holding the shell up to his face. "The sea!"

David briefly turned to Ziva with a probing look on his face. Smiling, Ziva nodded her head and David gave in, bowing down a little and allowing his little sister to hold the shell to his ear. After a small bout of _yes-no-yes-no_ he also followed her instructions as to keeping really still. Almost on cue his eyes went wide and a grin spread across his face. Ziva and Tony, who was just folding the last piece of laundry, could only watch and smile.

"Can we put it in the box?", David requested, looking at his parents and holding up his sister's hand, still clutching the sea shell.

"Yes, the box!", Tali agreed, obviously excited about her brother's idea.

They were, of course, referring to the tellingly named _'Box of Treasures'_ that Ziva had started back in the day for the purpose of holding onto any kind of baby-memorabilia for both of her children. But David and Tali had since repurposed it as a more general box for the treasures of their liking.

Tony chuckled. "Sure."

"It is on the shelf in the study", Ziva instructed, watching both of her kids jolt upright and sprint towards the stairs. "But _call_ us if you cannot reach it", she added knowingly and loud enough for them to hear.

"We got it, mom!", David called back at her over his shoulder, already trying to outrace his little sister.

"Or you just climb on the shelf and throw everything off until you get to it", Tony added sardonically, earning himself a slight slap on the shoulder from Ziva. "Just sayin'."

"What are you doing home already? I thought you were going to be out late?", she inquired.

"Ah, you know... Abby is taking that high-alert thing very Abby-ly, called McGee at least every hour. So, when Tim went home, David and I just called it a day too", Tony explained. "Thought a nice evening in with the fam wouldn't be a bad thing to come home to."

Ziva smiled at her partner. So, she wasn't the only one who was being overly cautious considering their current situation. Tony was just as much on edge as she was, and by the looks of it they had both independently and stubbornly decided not to admit it either. They could struggle against realities all they wanted, though, things were taking a toll on them and their families, and right now, there was not a damn thing they could do to stop it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed by the mayhem of emotions that were fighting for prominence inside of her - an affliction she, too, sturdily tried to ignore -, Ziva walked into the kitchen to pour herself some water. Eventually, however, she found herself standing at the kitchen window and staring outside.

"Pizza for dinner?", Tony asked a few minutes later, coming up behind her.

"Not the healthiest dinner choice, is it?", Ziva retorted.

Tony shrugged his shoulders when she turned around to face him. "Comfort food."

Ziva frowned. "Are we in need of comfort, Tony?"

Tony chuckled slightly at the incredulous tone in her voice. "Maybe we are." Then he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. When he pulled back, his expression had turned solemn. "David knows that something's going on."

"I know", she nodded.

"He kept asking weirdly on-the-mark questions."

A small sigh left Ziva's lips. "I will have to figure something out then."

"Hey", Tony cut in, stepping closer to her once more and running his hands up and down her sides. Their eyes locked. "We. _We'll_ figure something out."

"Yes", Ziva confirmed with a small smile, leaning into him. "We will."

"You're not alone in this", he stated, wrapping her into his arms. "You're not alone."

Suddenly they heard a hollow thud coming from upstairs, followed by David's guilty voice. "Mom! Dad!"

Ziva laughed out loud, straightening up in Tony's embrace. "You are never alone when you have kids."

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_Come, Tali. Abba called us to the study", eight-year-old Ziva implored her little sister._

_They were in Tali's room, the five-year-old crouching in the corner between her bed and her closet, an oversized stuffed koala bear held out like a shield in front of her, separating her from her older sister. Ziva was standing before her, her pleading look barely discernible in the darkness of the room, shades drawn._

"_I- I'm sc- I'm scared, Ziva", Tali mumbled, her voice muffled by the koala she kept pressed to her body and face._

_Ziva took a step towards her sister, holding out a hand. "It was just an explosion, Tali. It was far away."_

_Tali shook her head adamantly, drawing her bear even closer. "I want Ima."_

_Ziva let out an exasperated grunt. "Ima is not here right now-"_

"_Ziva", Ari called out, urgency lacing his voice as he appeared in the doorframe to Tali's room. "Abba is back. He is waiting."_

"_I am trying, Ari", Ziva sighed, shooting her brother a nervous glance._

_Ari took that as a sign to step into the room himself. He walked around Ziva and kneeled down in front of Tali, his smile visible to his little sister even in semi-darkness. "Tali, you have to go with Ziva and me now. Abba wants to talk to us", he explained softly._

"_Ima?"_

"_Ima will come soon."_

_Tali briefly shot Ziva a glance and her big sister nodded in affirmation, a small smile appearing on her face as well. "Okay", the five-year-old relented and took Ari's hand to help her get up from the floor._

_Ziva immediately stepped forward, gently placed the koala on Tali's bed under her little sister's watchful eyes and grabbed Tali's hand, tugging her along behind her and their brother. Ari hurriedly led them down the hall. When they arrived at a big wooden door, their father's voice echoing with commands and orders behind it, Ziva and Ari shared a look. Ziva nodded. Ari raised his hand and knocked._

"_Come in", Eli's voice called out._

_Ari opened the door for his sisters and went in after them, snapping it shut behind him. They took a few steps into the room, stopping two feet from their father's desk. Eli was on the phone, still barking at the person on the other end. When he hung up, he beckoned them closer. Tali's hand was still tightly enclosed in Ziva's. Eli rounded his desk and took a stand in front of them, tall and daunting, alternating his gaze between his three children._

_He took a deep breath. "The size of an act does not matter when its consequences can be felt even far away", he started, his voice low. "Do you understand what this means?" _

_All three of them knew that they were expected to answer, but neither of them knew how. When they remained silent, unsure but silent, Eli bowed forward a little, now eyeing them over the rim of his glasses. "The explosion you heard this afternoon was not very big, but yet it cost the lives of ten civilians", he tried again, his voice harder now. "Do you know what that means for the families of these people?"_

_Ari and Ziva nodded immediately, having seen friends go through it, strangers; Palestinian, Israeli, Arab, you name it. The pain wasn't different just because people were called, or called themselves, differently. Tali, however, still didn't understand; she couldn't. Her grip on Ziva's hand tightened and Ziva tilted her head somewhat to the side to look at her little sister. Tali's gaze was full of questions, but before Ziva could answer any of them, Eli had cupped Tali's chin and turned her small head towards him._

"_It means great loss, great pain, and great sorrow, Talia", Eli said slowly, fixing his eyes on his youngest daughter. "I am afraid, we will all come to know what it means very soon."_

_A feeling of dread spread in the pit of Ziva's stomach and she couldn't help but let her eyes wander to the side, towards her brother. Ari's face seemed drained of color all of a sudden. Ziva gripped Tali's hand even tighter as Eli let go of his daughter's chin and straightened back up to his full height._

"_Your mother died today in the explosion", Eli announced. "Your mother is dead."_

_Your mother died today. Your mother died. Your mother is dead. Eli's words echoed in Ziva's head while she tried, hard, harder, to wrap her mind around them. She was dead. Ima was dead. She would never come back. Suddenly, pearls of salty water started to brim in her eyes, stinging painfully as if they wanted to hurt her even before they fell. Once again, Ziva found herself looking up at Ari. She watched the ten-year-old bite down on his bottom lip so hard she noticed blood forming at the edge of his mouth. He swallowed hard, glancing at Ziva._

"_Ari." Eli's voice caused both of them to jolt upright and refocus their eyes straight ahead._

"_Yes, Sir?", Ari replied quickly, his voice hoarse with restraint._

"_I am needed at the office. I do not know how long I will be", Eli detailed. "Eliana's remains will be brought here in a while. You will stay with them until Shmiel arrives. I have called him already. He will know what to do."_

_Ari bit back the sorrow in his eyes. "Yes, Sir."_

_Eli nodded, then turned to Ziva. He could see the tears in her eyes. He noticed how she had started clenching her free hand in a fist so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "Ziva, you are fine", he told her firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. "You are fine. You need to be strong. Take care of your sister."_

_Ziva nodded. "Y-yes, Abba", she pressed out, afraid to move. "I am fine."_

"_You are fine." Eli nodded and let go of her. _

_He then bowed down to be on eye-level with Tali once again. The five-year-old had barely understood what was going on, but she knew it had to do with her Ima and she knew it was bad, really bad. She sniffled a little with soon-to-be tears and rolled her eyes up to meet her father's._

"_You stay with Ziva, Tali", he instructed her._

_He waited only until Tali had issued a small, timid nod before he hurried out of the study, leaving the door open behind his retreating form. Instantly, Tali flung her small body against Ziva's legs and Ziva finally let go of her little sister's hand and instead wrapped an arm around her heaving shoulders, her other hand still clenched to a fist._

"_Ima is gone", Ziva croaked, speaking to no one in particular and looking at nothing at all._

_Ari nodded, turning just a little when he heard the front door snap shut. "And we are all alone."_

_***…the ides of time…***_


	27. Rhythm

**Chap 27 Rhythm**

**Sunday, April 4****th**** 2021**

Tony gradually drifted awake for no apparent reason at all. Consciousness came on and he listened for a second. The room was still engulfed in darkness. The apartment was resting in silence. He turned onto his back, instinctually tracing his left hand along the midline of the bed, his eyes closed and ready to drift back to sleep. However, when his hand didn't graze any part of Ziva's body his eyes flickered open immediately. He looked over and found the bed empty. He frowned and sat up, taking a closer look. The pillow was still fluffy, the covers neatly folded atop the sheets. He had been exhausted yesterday, dosing off on the couch beside Ziva after the kids had gone to bed. She had nudged him awake enough so he could at least relocate to the bedroom. Ziva had promised to join him soon, but apparently she had not. Tony peeked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. It was a little before three in the morning.

Sighing, he swung his legs out of the side of the bed and crept out into the hallway. He stopped to look into the study, but it was dark and empty. Then he set out for downstairs and sure enough, lights were flickering, echoing off the wall. Ziva was sitting on the couch, her knees drawn up and close to her body. She was staring at the TV, but her face was blank, her thoughts far away. Tony smiled, realizing what she was watching when four-year-old David turned up on screen, clad in a superhero costume complete with cape and chest-initials, and got an oversized NCIS hat planted on his head by a smirking Gibbs in the middle of the bullpen. He remembered going trick-or-treating with his son afterwards, and how the little boy wouldn't take off that hat even if it tipped and covered his eyes more than half of the time.

He hummed slightly when he plopped down on the couch beside Ziva. "There's an empty bed upstairs, you know", he teased. "Love song material."

Ziva didn't look at him. "I cannot sleep."

Tony smiled. "I can see that."

"No, Tony", she repeated, finally turning to look into his eyes, "I _cannot_ sleep."

He realized this was not about cases that weighed on her mind, or Somali reminders jerking her awake, or sick children keeping her alert. Realization wiped the smile right off of his face. This was about- Well, what was this about, really?

"And this?", he asked, motioning at the TV that, by now, was flickering happily with the smiling faces of one-year-old Tali in a panda-costume grabbing for the sweets four-year-old David was plucking from his bag.

A smile flashed across Ziva's face as she took the memory in. "Reminding myself of who I am."

This rang so true with Tony that he could do nothing but look at her for a moment, watch her as she looked at nothing at all. "I think I can help with that", he offered and, for all intents and purposes, just scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her, her position on the couch not changing much besides that. Now they could blankly stare at the screen together.

* * *

><p>A few hours later Tony was awoken by a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Ziva standing in front of him, already wearing her work clothes. He blinked at her, a small smile greeting him, and straightened up. A groan escaped his lips when he realized that whatever position he had fallen asleep in, it hadn't been exactly relaxing for his back and neck. Rubbing a hand over the most urgent cramp in his lower side, he gratefully took the mug Ziva was holding out to him. It was filled with heavenly black liquid and he almost purred at the first sip.<p>

"You sleep at all?", he asked, leaning over to place a kiss on her mouth.

"A little", she said, flashing him a smile that quickly vanished. "I just went for a longer run."

He nodded. He didn't find that information particularly agreeable, but there was little else he could have done. "Leaving for the office?"

Ziva glimpsed at the clock on the wall. "Half an hour. Paperwork. A few case reviews came in late on Friday."

Tony nodded and sauntered into the kitchen, enjoying the early sunbeams that were streaming in through the window. He leaned against the kitchen table, taking another sip and just looking at Ziva. She had taken to leaning against the doorframe and was cradling the mug in her hands. She was looking back at him, emeralds in ambers, but no words left their lips. Tony started to speak multiple times. A thought, a sentence, built itself up in his mind, but not once one of those sentences managed to get his lips to open.

"Any plans for the day?", Ziva inquired quietly, her eyes briefly darting towards the staircase.

"I guess, we'll just hang out here for a while, then movie, park, walk", Tony answered, attempting a light tone. "In that or a similar order."

Ziva nodded, once again a smile tugging at her lips that didn't quite make it. She placed the rim of the mug against her lower lip and tilted it, then stopped and held it out in front of herself, glimpsing inside to find it already empty. Shaking her head, she walked over to the sink and put her mug inside, then adjusted the rag on counter for no other reason than finding it crumpled. She turned around and walked up to Tony, leaning in for another peck on the lips.

When she pulled back, Ziva nodded. "I will not be late."

He smiled slightly. "Counting on it."

With another nod Ziva left the kitchen, grabbed her backpack on the way and was just about to step into the foyer when David appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"It's Sunday", he observed, blinking his eyes as he stared at his mother.

"I have to catch up on some things at work", Ziva explained, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. "I will be back in the afternoon."

"Today's all daddy-tainment", Tony remarked, jumping in on the conversation as he stepped into the living room.

David nodded, but still seemed a bit perplexed by the situation. Tony could relate to the slightly bewildered look on his son's face. This was not routine, not at all. He watched as David went over and received a kiss and a hug goodbye from his mother, even a small sincere smile, before Ziva put on her boots, fetched her keys and walked out the front door, snapping it shut behind her.

She left David staring at Tony and Tony staring at David. Tony tilted his head to the side and took another sip from his coffee before suggesting, "So, cocoa à la crema?"

* * *

><p>Ziva had not realized just how little time she was spending at the office on weekends nowadays. For a while after Tony's return she had often had to catch up on paperwork on early Saturdays or Sundays, particularly in the beginning when Tali had not yet adjusted to having her father back in her life. Ziva had often traded places with Tony in the afternoon to take care of the kids and made up for it on the weekend. Afterwards, and especially after Gibbs had retired, they had fallen into a well-rounded rhythm that allowed them semi-normal work days and usually free weekends - barring a few tricky cases, stakeouts or undercover ops. Now it was only Tony who would sometimes come in on weekends to get some of his additional Supervisory Agent tasks done.<p>

She realized all that when the guard at the security check demanded her ID and badge. Usually, she would be waved through by Ed, sharing a small smile with him or the occasional haiku of small talk. Apparently, Ed wasn't working on weekends, and Ziva bit back her annoyance at the bored-looking man behind the desk when she presented the desired items. She was even more annoyed when the guy spent a whole five minutes inspecting, alternately, Ziva's face, the picture and name on her ID, and the badge. It annoyed her because he was obviously not checking their validity, but seemed put off by the foreign-looking woman who also appeared to be a certified NCIS Agent.

After he had finally surrendered to that inconceivable idea, Ziva breezed past him without another word or look. Up in the squadroom she was thankful to be greeted by pure silence. No one was there, no one was in. She took a deep breath before walking into the bullpen and behind her desk. Stowing away her things in the drawer, she found herself briefly looking at the picture on her ID as well, at her name and the word _'Special Agent'_. Shaking her head, she snapped the drawer shut and went to the break room to fix herself some coffee. She didn't usually drink coffee, but she felt she needed it today.

She hadn't been working for a full hour yet, buried deeply in an international report, when the faint sound of knocking caused her to jolt upright. She looked around for a moment, but there was nothing there. She shook it off and returned to the report, only to be startled again by knocking sounds, even louder this time. She sat up and put the report down, her eyes roaming her surroundings.

All of a sudden a small figure jumped out from behind the other side of her desk. "Boo!", Liora yelled, unable to keep from laughing a her own little ploy.

"Liora", Ziva exclaimed in surprise, pulling the two-year-old onto her lap as she wobbled over and greeted her Auntie with open arms. "What are you doing here?"

"Mama 'n me go see da bells", the little girl explained. Her arms flew towards the orange partition, behind which Abby appeared just as out-of-the-blue as her daughter just had.

"We're just coming from church", Abby clarified, smiling at her daughter and friend. "Liora likes the bells there the best."

"Ah", Ziva realized, turning back to Liora. "They make a big noise, do they not?"

"Like ding dong ding dong", Liora imitated in a bright voice, her grin easily painting a smile on Ziva's face.

"Tim promised Kevin he'd help out with some badly encrypted logs. He's getting them now and he said you were probably up here working, so we thought we'd pay you a visit", Abby went on. "Right, munchkin?"

Liora nodded her head enthusiastically. "Visit Aun'ie Zee."

"Well, that was very nice of you. Thank you", Ziva said, tapping the little girl's nose, which earned her a hail of giggles.

"And then we're off to lunch with Luca."

"Oh, is that today?"

"Yep, he's in town for a work thing." Abby nodded. "So, it's just him with no kids."

"Hey, you two. Ready to go?", McGee called out, entering the bullpen from the back elevator. "So, you _are_ working on a Sunday."

"Apparently so", Ziva quipped, handing Liora back to her mother.

"Need any help?"

"No", Ziva shot him down adamantly, motioning towards Abby and Liora. "You three enjoy your day with Luca. I will be fine, really."

McGee pressed his lips together, knowing that his friend was anything but fine, but he still just nodded his head. This was Ziva, after all. There was no use convincing her of her own feelings. Abby then leaned down for a hug, in the course of which Liora planted a kiss on Ziva's cheek that caused both women to laugh.

"Buh-eye", the little girl exclaimed enthusiastically.

Abby smiled at her daughter, then turned to Ziva with a more serious look on her face. "Call, if you need to call."

Ziva nodded vaguely. "Have fun", she called after them as they went, returning Liora's wave.

She waited until the doors of the elevator had slipped shut to take another deep breath and return to the report she had just unceremoniously abandoned. After she had finished it and delivered it back to Tony's desk with a few of her notes, she moved on to reviewing case files, and writing up a few of her own. She only left her desk a couple of times to go to the bathroom, get a glass of water or more caffeinated beverages. She relished the quietness and the static atmosphere of the bullpen, glad not to talk for a while, glad not to have to listen. At around half past twelve she looked at the bottom right corner of her screen for the first time, realizing that it was lunchtime and dismissing it instantly. She would get a granola bar from the vending machine when she was finished with the paragraph she was working on.

However, she had barely marked its end with a full stop when the elevator announced itself with the familiar _ding_. Ziva turned around out of habit, but she could have spared herself the abrupt movement. Tali and David were already sprinting towards her desk.

"First!", David announced when he crashed into Ziva's legs.

Tali huffed and then looked up, smirking at her mother's raised eyebrows. "Shalom, mommy."

"Shalom", Ziva greeted with a half-laugh, leaning down to plant a kiss on top of her little girl's and her little boy's head, respectively. "Was I expecting this surprise?"

"Nope. But I had a hunch you might skip lunch", Tony clarified, turning up in front of her desk and showing off four white paper bags. "You know what they say about things that rhyme."

"What do they say?", David asked.

Tony raised his eyebrows towards Ziva. "Rhymes are good", she said, reciting Tony's words dutifully as she looked between her son and partner.

"Fact", Tony added.

Ziva slightly shook her head, switched her computer to standby mode and then got up to lead her family to the break room. Once again, the kids raced each other to the table, arguing about who had won while Ziva and Tony unpacked the bags and dished up lunch. By the time both of them were happily equipped with cutlery and a plate full of food, Ziva leaned back in her chair, holding her salad in one hand, fork in the other, and just surveyed her family. Tony caught her stare with a small smile, which she returned.

"So, what have you been up to?", she inquired.

"We played at home", David replied, grinning mischievously at his dad.

"Daddy said we can't tell, though", Tali added, shrugging her shoulders at her mother.

That certainly got Ziva's attention. "Did he now?"

"No, that's not how I said it, princess", Tony objected, offering Ziva a look of pure innocence. "I just said that we'll surprise your mom with a new vase by the time she came home."

Ziva's eyebrows shot up instantly. "You broke a vase?"

"He crashed into it", David clarified, painting half of the word-picture that the expression on his mother's face demanded.

"Which one?"

Tony cocked his head to the side. "The old and ugly one?"

"The one the office gave me when David was born?", Ziva asked and Tony nodded. "How?"

Tony sighed a dramatic sigh. "Pizza carton and jaws, sweetcheeks. Pizza carton and jaws."

"Daddy was a shark and chased us round", Tali offered, smiling broadly.

"The kids we tell not to run in the house, so they will not break anything. And you do both in one day?", Ziva continued, frowning at her partner.

"I was caught up in the game. I was so totes into it. I was the _shark_, Ziva", he crooned, a grin persistently playing on his lips. "And you hated that vase anyway."

"Of course I hated that vase", Ziva confirmed quickly, her eyes widening. "But that is not the point."

"See, the point is we will get a new vase, and a pretty one, while we're in the city today", Tony concluded, then turned to look at Tali and David to add in a more serious tone, "But the rule still stands, no running and breaking things in the house."

Both kids instantly looked at Ziva for confirmation and she nodded her head, trying to hide the smile she felt tugging at her lips upon Tony's knowing grin. "So, what kind of plans will bring you to the city this afternoon?"

Tony once again tilted his head to the side, a soft and grateful _'ah'_ dripping from his lips. "We'll catch part of the Charlie Chaplin marathon afterwards."

Ziva frowned slightly. "Not _The Great Dictator_, yes?"

Tony raised his eyebrows at her. "I was thinking more _Modern Times_. Charlie in that factory, sure-fire hoot."

"_Charlie Chocolate Factory_?", Tali inquired, the excitement already budding in her eyes as she gazed up at them.

"Wrong Charlie, princess", Tony said. The little girl wrinkled her nose at not getting to see what she thought was an A+ movie. Tony offered her a sympathetic smile, brushing back a few of her fallen curls. "You're going to love it anyway, I promise."

"I love chocolate", she countered, giving him a profound nod.

"You'll learn to love the Tramp", Tony assured her, also looking at David. "You're my kids. It's in the chromosomes, at least in twenty-three of 'em."

Tali didn't quite catch the last half of her father's sentence, but that didn't matter much anyway. "Are there dogs in it? I love doggies, too", the five-year-old tried again, fixing her father with her best excitedly inquisitive stare.

Tony chuckled. "No, it's not _Lady and the Tramp_ either." The future seemed seldom brighter than when a self-indulgent montage of his plans for the kids' movie education erupted before his inner eye. "You got to trust me on this, princess."

Tali reached out and placed her hand squarely on her father's chest. Looking absolutely serious, she declared, "I trust you, daddy."

Ziva and Tony couldn't help but laugh out loud at this. Tony took a hold of his daughter's hand and pressed a kiss against it, winking at her with all the conviction of a movie aficionado. At the same time, however, both adults noticed how quiet David had become during all of this. Now, it wasn't unusual that Tony, and especially Tali, were proving to be the most talkative and fervent during lunch or dinner, but David's contemplative expression could hardly slip their attention. That is why, when Tony and Ziva took to discarding the remnants of their lunch, only a small glance between them alerted Tony to the way David was shuffling around beside them.

Winking at his partner, Tony stepped over to his daughter and scooped her up into his arms. "Let's go see if we can find some dessert in McUncle's desk", he suggested, meeting Tali's heartfelt approval.

When father and daughter had rounded the corner and Tony's mischievous whispers were fading in the distance, Ziva turned to look at her son, smiling encouragingly. "Do you want to tell me what is on your mind, tateleh?", she inquired softly, wiping her hands on a rag.

David looked up at her, his forehead set in deep wrinkles. "What do you do when someone's saying really mean things to you?"

"Is someone saying mean things to you?", Ziva repeated, immediately worried. David shrugged his shoulders. "Tommy?" Once again, Ziva's question was met with a shrug, but issued with less conviction this time. Ziva crouched down in front of her son. "David?"

"Just, what would _you_ do?", he tried again, keeping himself at a small distance from his mother.

Ziva smiled inwardly. She had a pretty good idea what she would do to someone who was giving her children a hard time. But, being the mindful mother that she tried to be, she chose not to suggest her method of dealing with it. "If I were you, I would try to ignore him", Ziva suggested.

David mulled this over in his head. "Even if they like, say it to your face?", he added, his voice quieter than before.

"Even then", Ziva insisted, reaching out to put a reassuring hand on his arm. "In my experience, people say mean things to your face just to get a reaction from you."

David cocked his head to the side. "Like what?"

Ziva thought about this for a second, her eyes briefly narrowing. "Like…say mean things back to them, or yell, or cry. They want to manipulate you into some kind of reaction."

"Manipulate?"

"Make you do things they want you to do, even though you might not want to do them in the first place", Ziva tried to clarify, speaking slowly and softly to accommodate the unsure look on her son's face. "If you ignore them, you do not allow that to happen."

"So, just ignore him?", David concluded, the tone in his voice strengthening.

"Do not give him what he wants, and he will stop", Ziva replied, also taking a hold of the eight-year-old's other arm. "Zeh hakol."

David finally nodded his head. "Okay."

"But if you want us to, your dad and I can talk to his mother", Ziva added, feeling a bit of unease at the thought of her son going through this by himself.

He gave her a small smile and shook his head. "I got it", he said, allowing himself to step into his mother's embrace now.

Ziva held him for a moment, then kissed the top of his head before getting up from the floor and leading her son back into the squadroom where they found Tali and Tony waiting for the elevator. Tali was talking up at her father in an endless stream of words and he merely listened, his look solemn. When Tony noticed Ziva and David walking towards them, his eyes briefly caught his partner's in an unvoiced question and Ziva nodded her head in response. Then he turned back to his daughter and motioned towards the approaching pair.

"Why don't you just ask her yourself?", he recommended, a small sigh dripping from his lips.

Tali instantly whirled around and gazed up at her mother with wide eyes. "You comin' with us, mommy?", she asked in her sweetest voice.

"I am afraid I still have work to do, tateleh", Ziva declined, kneeling down to her daughter's eye-level and brushing some of her curls behind her ear. "But I will be home in time for dinner. And until then you will have fun with your daddy and Deed, yes?"

"Okay", Tali conceded a bit sullenly as she let herself tip forward and right into Ziva's arms.

After one last kiss goodbye delivered to both of her kids and a quick peck on the cheek to Tony, Ziva was soon alone in the bullpen once more. She remained standing, silently, in front of the elevator doors, behind which her family had just vanished. The sudden transition, from being an all-around mother to her children and a partner to Tony, to being the only NCIS Agent working on a Sunday, felt particularly and oddly blunt at that moment. Heaving a small sigh she briefly stopped over at the vending machine for one of the purple granola bars and then returned to her desk. Drinking in the silence, she opened another folder and continued where she had left off.

"You keep hovering like a ghost, do you know that?", Ziva called out at once, looking at the clock on her computer screen to find only about forty minutes to have passed. Leveling her voice to a whisper, she added, "Like Sam."

"There is little else I can do", Eliana said, stepping out from behind the far-side orange partitions and into the bullpen. It was true. After decades on the run, always moving, always thinking about the next step, the Navy Yard and NCIS offices appeared particularly small to her. She was still acclimating herself to this very different style of living. "I did not think you would be working on a Sunday."

"I used to. All the time", Ziva stated. "But I am trying not to since the kids."

A small smile tugged at the edges of Eliana's mouth. "I imagine they were not happy to let you go today."

"Tony's entertainment plans usually work very well to make them forget that I am not there", Ziva remarked, still not looking up.

Eliana watched for a while as Ziva continued writing the note she had started a while ago. "Thank you", she said.

Ziva eyed her mother over the rim of her computer screen. "Thank me for what?"

"For sharing."

"I simply answered your question", Ziva shot back, a bit more harshly than she had intended maybe.

"I did not ask one", Eliana clarified softly. "So, thank you."

Ziva ran through their conversation in her head and confirmed her mother's statement. She scoffed slightly to herself, but nodded her head nonetheless, going back to her notes. When her thoughts drifted to their current case and having had Tony promise to her yesterday evening that he would be particularly cautious with the kids, Ziva couldn't help but voice a question that had been haunting her thoughts for a while now. Eliana had just decided to accept her daughter's conclusion of their conversation and had turned to leave, but was stopped short by Ziva's voice.

"Do you think they know?", Ziva demanded, looking up at her with sincere interest.

"Know what?", Eliana said.

"Do you think they know you are here, at NCIS, and that we know who you are?"

She was talking about Arik and Kadeer. Eliana proceeded to answer, her mouth gaping for a moment. "I am sure they know you are on to them. Raiding their hiding place was somewhat of a give-away."

Ziva scoffed. "Are you saying we shouldn't have acted?"

"I am saying it was maybe a bit rushed", Eliana said slowly, "In retrospect."

"They knew we were after them all along. They were toying with us", Ziva countered. She hadn't intended for this to become about defending her team's decisions.

"Yes, but on their own terms", Eliana clarified. "Now that they think they have lost their advantage, I fear, things have only become more dangerous for us all."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "So, you think they know you are here?"

"No, actually, I think they do not."

"Why?"

Eliana sighed. "Because it was Eli who brought me here and he did not want them to know."

Ziva laughed slightly, shaking her head. "You trust him."

"Yes. You do not?" Ziva didn't answer for a while, just stared at the empty walkway railing on the upper floor. "You can tell me what it is that happened between you and your-"

"I was not thinking about that", Ziva cut in quickly, not ready to get in so deep, not ready to see past disappointment, betrayal, anger and whichever other emotion she was feeling, not at all. "I was _thinking_ whether it is a good thing or a bad thing they do not know that you are here."

Eliana straightened up, folding her hands in front of her body. Ziva couldn't help but notice how very similar her mother's posture was now to what hers would have been at that moment. "So, what is the verdict?", Eliana asked.

Ziva leaned back in her chair, eyeing her mother. "It would be a good thing if you were of any help", she declared. "But I am getting the feeling that you are _not_…of any help to us."

For the first time Eliana felt something like irritation boil inside of her. She knew she was in no position to claim any entitlement to that emotion, but she couldn't help it. "I told you the whole story", she snapped. "I came clean. I gave it all."

Ziva stared at her for a moment. "So what?", she asked quietly.

"You can- Now you can-"

"Now we can _what exactly_?", Ziva challenged, her voice low. "You did not help us catch Nuri. We got there all by ourselves. We had Cooper's name, Grady's name, we even found the connection to the Haswari family. We would have dug deeper, we would have found out that Farouk had a son, that Kadeer had been injured that day. We already made the connection to Mossad."

Eliana took a deep breath. "But this is not about Mossad. This is personal. And you would have never discovered the full truth, that it is _me _they are after", she argued. "You would have never known that _you_ are in danger."

"Are you blind?", Ziva roared, getting up from her seat and propping her arms up on the desk. "You are _still_ hidden! You just said it yourself. They do not know you are here, that you are with NCIS. They will not stop hunting you. We did not avert any danger. Because you are here. Because, now that you are here and we know who you are, we cannot hunt you down ourselves."

Eliana just stood, looking at her daughter, looking at the menacing glint of anger burning in her auburn eyes. There was nothing she could say. She needed to process this-

"Eli brought you here on purpose."

"To protect me", Eliana said.

"That", Ziva admitted, "And because he is Eli. He still has something up his sleeve. Something we cannot hope to know until he deigns to tell us."

"I could go and just give myself up."

"That, I am afraid, would defeat _any_ purpose", Ziva shot back decidedly, concluding that particular argument by sitting back down. "They are terrorists. Killers. They do not get what they want. I am an NCIS Agent. I swore to protect and to serve, not to hand people over to their killers."

Eliana watched as Ziva just went back to what she had been working on, a blank expression masking the emotion she sure expected her to feel. Eliana knew she had to leave. She knew that everything she were to say now would only run up against a wall of resolve and anger. She reminded herself of Gibbs' words, of Ducky's, and Tony's. Three men who, she had come to realize, cared so deeply about her daughter that she found it hard to convince herself that there was still a place for someone like a mother in Ziva's life. That which they had now, at this moment, was not about a mother and a daughter. It was something entirely different.

"We will never just talk, will we?", Eliana asked.

Ziva felt the muscles in her neck clench. She heaved an irritated breath, forcing herself to look up at her mother. "I do not even know who I am talking _to_. Who are you?", she said with a shrug, her voice calm. "You walked out on my childhood, on my life. I do not know you."

"I walked away to protect you."

"But your reasons do not change anything now."

"They do matter."

"No, they do not", Ziva held, shaking her head. "You left. I grew up. I lived."

Eliana took a few steps forward, her eyes glistening with regret. "You have no idea how sorry I am."

"You see? I do not want you to be sorry. I know that being sorry is all that you can do, but I do not want you to", Ziva countered, an exasperated laugh dripping from her lips. "Because I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I have long learned to live with a dead mother. I cannot make myself go through all of this again so I can learn to live with a mother who abandoned me. I have a family to think about, too."

Eliana shook her head now as well. "Tell me what I can do. I do not know how-"

"Because this is not about _you_", Ziva snapped, adamant to finally make a point, any point, and stop feeling all or any of this. "You knew it all for thirty years. You knew the truth. You give me three days and suddenly I should want to get to know you, talk to you?"

Eliana suddenly realized the mistake she had made. Why couldn't she have just shut up and walked away? After three people had told her to stay back, not to push it, she had done exactly that. She was pushing Ziva. She was pushing for something she had barely any hope she would ever get. She could practically see the walls shoot up in front of her daughter, protecting herself, protecting her family.

"I understand", Eliana relented, taking a step back. "It is just-"

Ziva glared at her, her eyebrows rising. "Just what?"

"I have waited for this so long."

"But I have not waited", Ziva barked, her voice so loud now she could hear its echo in the empty squadroom. Why was it so hard to make Eliana see that? "I was not looking forward into a future where I might get to have a mother again. I was looking back, at a time when I had a mother."

Eliana looked at her, unable to say anything.

Ziva laughed slightly, her eyes springing to Tony's desk. "It is not only the bad things that happened to me. It is also the good things", she said, a small smile lingering. "You were not there when I came here and found a family. When I became an American citizen. When I fell in love. When my children were born. All those years I wished you were here with me, and now that you are… Things are not what I imagined. You are not who I imagined you to be. I only knew my mother from when I was eight years old. And she is not you."

Eliana was left speechless by Ziva's words. Yet, one thought lay prominent on her mind. "I am your mother, Ziva."

Ziva shook her head. "You are _not_...my mother."

* * *

><p>As she was packing up her things a little later that afternoon, Ziva could still see the look of utter disappointment on Eliana's face when the older woman had nodded her head - to offer or feign her understanding, Ziva didn't know - and almost instantaneously left the bullpen and the squadroom through the door to the main staircase. It pained her to have caused that disappointment. It pained her as a human being, as a feeling person, but it did not pain her as a daughter. The woman she had talked to today, argued with today, was foreign to her. Eliana was nothing like the mother Ziva had learned to live with, the ghost of a mother she had neatly integrated into her life.<p>

Ziva fumbled with the phone in her hand and finally dialed a familiar number. After only two rings, Tony picked up and hummed a greeting. "I am just leaving the office", she informed him. "But I still need to run an errand."

"You do that. I'll get dinner ready", he answered, choosing not to press her on the errand issue. "Pizza again?"

Ziva smiled, invisible to Tony. "Maybe something with real vegetables for the kids is a better idea."

"And you?"

"I will take the leftover pizza."

Tony waited for a moment. "I love you, Ziva."

"I love you, too."

With that declaration echoing in her ear she hung up and got into her car. After a brief trip down Washington's Sunday afternoon streets she pulled into Gibbs' driveway. She got out and walked up to the house, finding the door habitually unlocked. It was fairly dark inside, but she still couldn't help but smile at the toys and games that had been scattered all over the living room during their welcome-home-party two days ago. Gibbs had only pushed them aside so that they would not disturb his daily commute from the stairs to the kitchen, but he had refrained from putting them all away and out of sight.

Ziva had barely reached the couch, when Gibbs entered from the kitchen, holding a stuffed panda out in front of him. "Tali's or Liora's?", he asked.

Ziva took a good look at it. "Tali's."

Gibbs nodded and placed it with some other toys on the lounger by the fireplace. "Tell her I'm keeping it around."

Ziva nodded. "Are you expecting someone?", she asked then, motioning at the two bottles sitting on the coffee table.

He gave her a crooked smile and settled down on the couch. "You."

She sat down beside him, placing her keys on the table. Her eyes narrowed. "Are you psychic now?"

"Tony called." He leaned forward and skillfully opened both bottles, holding one out to her. When Ziva started to shake her head, he clarified, "Non-alcoholic."

She accepted the bottle with a nod and took a long first sip while he waited for her, waited for her to say anything. But she didn't. "Talk to me, Ziver."

She turned to look at him. "My father is plotting something. He set all of this up, the explosion, Eliana", she started, anger mixing in with her quiet tone.

Gibbs took a sip and nodded. "He's got the kicker."

"You have been thinking the same thing", Ziva realized.

Gibbs threw his head back a little. "Been asking around."

"And?"

He slightly shook his head, a vague smile appearing on his face. "Just put the word out."

Ziva frowned. "Word of what?"

"That Director _David_ should get his ass back here", Gibbs declared, fixing her with his blue eyes.

"I would appreciate that", Ziva understated, giving him a small smile. "Thank you."

Gibbs waited for a moment, taking another sip from his beer. He shifted his position a little more openly towards Ziva then. "Tell me."

Once again, her first instincts told her to wait, not to say anything, not to talk. But then again, her non-talking days were long over. She had learned to share, and appreciate people's interest in her sharing.

"I have gone from not having a mother at all to her being everywhere I go. In my head, or in person", Ziva said, her eyes falling to the neck of the bottle in her hand.

"It's not easy."

Ziva released a slow breath that was laced with _'No kidding'_-undertones. "It ended with me telling her that she is not my mother at all", she admitted, lifting her eyes up enough to focus on the wood edging on the opposite wall.

Gibbs smiled vaguely. "Maybe she isn't, Ziva. Maybe she's just someone you have to get to know."

Ziva traced the rim of the bottle's opening with her finger. "I don't know how-"

"Give it time, Ziver", Gibbs said, nodding. "Thirty years don't tell themselves in a day or two."

"You sound like Ducky."

"We spent weeks on that boat together", Gibbs retorted, smiling for real now. "Must've rubbed off on me."

* * *

><p>When Ziva stepped into the apartment that evening her head was throbbing with a massive headache. She peeled off her boots and just discarded her backpack by the door. The sounds of a Sunday evening at home crashed in on her, the clanging of pots, the soft chatter of the TV, music from the radio, occasional voices. Ziva took a moment to close her eyes on it, close her eyes and breathe, trying to level out the emotional spikes rupturing her insides so she could try to be herself when she was coming home to her family. Once she felt composed enough she proceeded through the foyer and the living room, finding Tony at the kitchen counter. He was stirring something red, softly humming along to the song playing in the background.<p>

Ziva stepped over to him and leaned up, catching his lips in a short kiss. "I am home."

"Welcome home", he said, grinning and yet turning slightly in his position to study the expression on her face.

Recognizing his probing glances, Ziva offered him a smile and surveyed the status of their impending dinner. It looked like he was almost done. "The kids?"

"Upstairs. Playing quietly or plotting to set the place on fire", he quipped, slinging a rag over his shoulder and taking one of the pots over to the sink.

"I really hope it is option number one", Ziva retorted. "Or I will have to confiscate their matches."

"You do that, sweetcheeks", he called after her, still feeling Ziva's hand on his arm after she had already left. He looked after her, a scowl settling on his face.

Arriving upstairs, Ziva followed the muffled voices and was thusly led right into David's room. Gently prying the door open, Ziva stepped inside.

"Hey, mommy!", Tali called over, spotting her in the doorframe.

"Tali", David griped, before turning himself around in his chair to look at his mother. "Hey, mom."

"I wanna give you a hug, mommy, but we're playing artist and Deed's the artist and he's a real meanie 'bout sitting still", Tali explained sweetly, cocking her head to the side.

Ziva smiled at this and walked up to her son. David had arranged a few of his books to form a scaffold of sorts. He sat there with his drawing pad propped up against it and his forehead set in deep wrinkles.

"May I take a look?", she requested from behind him.

"Sure." David leaned a little to the side.

Ziva was amazed by the way he had diligently traced and captured the edges of Tali's face in layered contours. His portrait shared remarkable similarities with the real-life version of his sister. "This is really good, tateleh", Ziva praised.

"Todah", he replied almost a bit shyly. Ziva smiled and brushed a hand over her son's tousled hair, placing a kiss on top of his head.

"Hey!", Tali called over, "I don't get a kiss?"

Ziva chuckled, turning to David. "May I, Maestro?"

David sighed, but nodded his approval. Only then Ziva dared walking over to her daughter and kneeled down in front of her. She smiled as Tali leaned forward, ever so carefully, and met her in a hug and kiss.

"Did you have fun with your dad after you left?"

"We went to this really old movie theater", David said, and Ziva turned a little so she could look at both of her kids.

Ziva was pretty sure she knew which one the eight-year-old was talking about. It must have been the one Tony's mother, Rosalie, had taken her son for matinées back when she had still been alive; the one in the picture of Tony and his mother that rested among other family memorabilia on the living room shelf. Tony had been talking about wanting to take the kids there for a while. For a second Ziva felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. _Tony's mother... _How could she have been so self-absorbed? She didn't have time to dwell on it longer, though. Not yet.

"And we watched a man get eaten by 'chines", Tali added, wrinkling her nose. "They forgot to color 'em, though. It was all black and grey."

"It's called black-and-white, duh", David corrected.

Tali just put her tongue out at him.

"Tali", Ziva warned, raising her eyebrows.

"Sorry", Tali sighed. "Then we went to the park again."

"And daddy got almost stuck on the slide", David said, a smirk playing on his lips.

Ziva frowned. "How did he get on the slide in the first place?"

"Well, sweetcheeks", Tony put in, entering the room right on cue, "It started with Miss Tali saying something along the lines of _'Daddy, I bet you won't fit on the slide anymore'_ and as it turned out, she was a bit right about that."

"Told ya", Tali nodded as Ziva laughed out loud, images popping up before her eyes. She offered Tony a pointed smirk and he realized that he would probably not live that one down for at least the next half-year.

"Dinner's ready", he announced simply.

Together they walked back downstairs. During dinner the kids detailed the very circumstances and consequences of Tali challenging her father to the slide-ride. Afterwards, Ziva took care of bath time and washing Tali's hair while Tony cleaned up the kitchen, allowing his partner a bit of alone-time with the kids. He only stepped in to deliver his goodnight kisses, briefly interrupting Tali's and Ziva's negotiations as to the number of chapters that were going to be read that night. The five-year-old was aiming high and Ziva was adamantly pointing out the time, in particular considering the little girl's bedtime on Sundays. Tony didn't stay long enough for the final verdict, but hearing Ziva creep out of Tali's room not even half an hour later, the argument had probably been settled by overwhelming fatigue on Tali's part.

Following an unsuccessful search for a late-night gem of old-school television, Tony eventually retreated to their shared bedroom a little while later and found Ziva sitting up in bed, reading. He changed into his night clothes and threw the comforter back, sliding under the covers beside her. Looking over he realized for the first time that she wasn't reading at all: Ziva was browsing through one of the photo albums. He was pretty solid on the Hebrew signs for _'Ziva'_, and the label certainly didn't say that, so he assumed it was one of her siblings'. Noticing how prominently the pictures featured a little brown-haired girl, Tony deduced it was probably the _'Tali' _album.

"Reminiscing?", Tony asked.

"Thinking."

"April 15th?"

Ziva smiled softly, resting the album on her legs and tracing a finger along its edges. She realized with a pang of guilt that she had somehow shoved April 15th to the back of her mind until now. She could never forget, of course, but normally her thoughts would be rife with memories related to that day. However, as time would have it now, her thoughts were rife with all kinds of memories, bristling really. Ziva slowly shook her head.

Tony nodded. "Thinking about what then?"

"How to deal with my dead mother", Ziva admitted, lifting her gaze up at him.

"She was there today, wasn't she?", Tony inquired, finally taking the time to recognize the commotion behind Ziva's eyes.

She nodded vaguely. "We had an argument."

"Sounds healthier than silent staring", he offered in return. He reached out and looped a loose strand of Ziva's hair around his finger, slipping it behind her ear. "That's progress."

Ziva scoffed. "Hardly."

She returned to the album, setting her eyes on a picture of thirteen-year-old Tali David playing the violin. Tony followed her eyes and realized how painful it must have been for his partner to have all these what-ifs scurrying around in her head all the time.

"I talked to Eliana, one time", Tony started, instantly claiming Ziva's full attention. "After the meeting with Vance? I took her aside and told her not to rush you. Wasn't the only one either. Gibbs probably grabbed her by the balls. Ducky went full Scottish on her. Listening's apparently not her thing."

Ziva disregarded the last part for a moment. "I knew about Ducky."

"Come on, you must've known Gibbs would go all Papa Bear on her", Tony remarked, a smile sprinting across his face. What he would have given to see that.

Ziva nodded. "But you-"

"I know", Tony cut in, not allowing her to voice her thoughts. "I shouldn't have gone behind your back to talk to her. But, you know? I couldn't help it. I just- I- When Eliana turned up, I promised myself I would butt out. I'd be there when you needed me, no questions asked, but I figured I had no idea what you were going through, how could I say anything at all?"

Ziva shifted a bit in her position, discarding the album for now at the footend of the bed. "Tony, I did not ask you to do that."

"But just because I don't know what you're going through, doesn't mean I don't know _you_", he continued, sitting up straighter.

"Tony-"

"You just had the ultimate dream of kids all around the world come true: mommy resurrected", he declared, a smile playing on his lips.

"Tony", Ziva said, putting more force behind her words and putting both of her hands squarely on his chest to get him to stop and listen to her. "I am so sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"I am sorry that I have been so caught up with myself lately that I did not consider how you must feel", Ziva elaborated softly.

He took a hold of one of her hands and guided it up to meet his lips, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Ziva, I'm a big boy. My mother is dead. This is not a toy that I want too just because you have it now", he said calmly.

"My point is that I did not realize before that it might hurt you too. And I am sorry for that", she repeated, waiting for a moment before she went on. "See? I do not like what all this makes of me. I am inconsiderate, absent, angry. I feel angry all the time."

"It might be a very cliché thing to say right now", Tony retorted, squeezing her hand, "But it's when you don't feel anything at all that you have to be worried. You have a right to be angry, Ziva. Hell, if you feel like it, you can take a swing at her. If you want. I won't tell."

"But I do not want to be angry, not when I am with you or with the kids."

"I guess, that's just what we're going to have to deal with", Tony assured her. "And we will. We _will_ deal with this."

Ziva scoffed. Still, she couldn't keep a smile off of her face upon the look of utter sincerity and determination glistening behind Tony's eyes. "Getting to know my mother after thirty years. For crying out loud, I am a mother myself now."

"Maybe that's what will make the difference", Tony suggested. "You of all people would move hell and earth if Tali or David were in danger, wouldn't you? You wouldn't rather die than see them get hurt?"

"Of course I would", Ziva said. "But I would not fake my death and disappear. I would die for them, but I would never be able to live knowing that they are out there, hurting, and I could not be with them."

There it was again, the anger, the disappointment, the betrayal. Tony could see it all, and he knew she was entitled to feeling all of them. In a way, she needed to, she needed to let herself feel. It's what she had done after Somalia, after surviving hell, she had continued feeling, hurting. These emotions were good. These emotions were nothing out-of-the-ordinary in a very out-of-the-ordinary situation, that is.

"Have you ever thought that maybe, _maybe_ she always hoped this day would come? The day she'd be able to see you again, come back to you?"

"Are you defending her?"

"Kind of."

She huffed, trying to free her hand from his grasp with a sudden jolt, but Tony wouldn't yield. If anything, he just held on tighter.

"I'm not defending what she _did_, Ziva. But I can see that you're miserable. You don't have to tell me, I can see it", he explained evenly. "You are putting on a brave face and you babble on about routine Fridays. You can make all the jokes in the world about it. I know them all. But you need some kind of perspective on this. This won't just go away. We can tell her to back off all we want, but she won't. She _can't_."

"She died, Tony. My mother is dead. I only know how to deal with that."

"Just", Tony said softly, tugging a little at her arm to get her to inch closer to him. "Think about it. Think about Tali, think about David. Think about knowing that you will have to leave them, knowing that you will hurt them, and still it's the only option. Think about knowing that you will never see them again. You think you can really fault her for hoping?"

She got lost in Tony's words. He had obviously been thinking about what he was going to say to her tonight, or tomorrow, or soon. Sure, she could relate to Eliana's decision. A part of her, maybe, even understood. Another part of her, however, also couldn't help but condemn her decision, condemn her, and irrationally so, for who she was, as a real-life person, a person that was nothing like the ghost in her imagination, nothing like the idolized vision of an eight-year-old.

Ziva slightly shook her head. "I still cannot treat her as my mother."

"I don't think anybody could expect you to. Neither should she by the way", Tony admitted. "But maybe you will someday, who knows?"

She nodded, but barely, and then she leaned over and rested her lips on Tony's for a kiss that lasted longer than any other they had shared that day. She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face as she pulled back. "Do not ever try to butt out again, do you hear me?"

Her words drove a grin to Tony's face. "Rumor has it, I can't keep my butt out at all, at all times."

"I am serious, Tony", she said, moving her body to rest against his, only sheets separating them now. "You know me. You know who I am. Lately, it has become very hard for me to- to _know_. When I am with you, or when I am with the children, that is when I know. Never think I am better off without."

Tony nodded and smiled. "Noted."


	28. Treading Flat

**Chap 28 Treading Flat**

**Monday, April 5****th**** 2021**

Gibbs had barely scraped together four full hours of sleep between the moment he had finally abandoned the basement and retreated to his bedroom, and the moment he had darted back upright with a plan budding in his mind. The sun had only just inched past the horizon when he got into his car and drove to the Navy Yard. He made a beeline for the coffee cart he knew was already open at this time of day and found her sitting on a bench nearby. He didn't go over to her, though. He simply waited for her eyes to make his, taking the occasional sip from his coffee. When she finally noticed him, he beckoned her to follow him with a slight jolt of the index finger. She did without question.

A few feet separating them, they walked to the parking lot without anyone's notice and Gibbs motioned for her to get into the car beside him despite the unsure expression on her face. Just before the security check at the entrance, Gibbs told her to look for something, anything, in the glove department while he drove past them, giving Ed, the security guard, a small smile that hailed from knowing each other for more than ten years.

Silence lingered for quite a while until Eliana decided to ask. "What is this?"

"Trip", Gibbs offered curtly, already pulling into the driveway of his house.

"Trip to where?"

He stopped the engine and nodded towards the door on her side of the car. "Perspective."

Without another word he led her towards the house, carefully checking their surroundings all the while. Once inside he strolled towards the back staircase and down to the basement. They passed by two empty bottles on the coffee table and a variety of toys and games scattered about in his living room; she couldn't help but notice. Their steps on the wooden treads echoed in the silence as they made their way to the work bench that framed the right corner of the room. Gibbs stopped there and turned around, staring into her eyes. He remained silent for a moment, allowing her to take a look around. She assumed, rightly so, that they were now standing in Gibbs' house and, it appeared, in his very private work shop. The methodical diligence with which he had assorted his tools told her more about him than words ever could.

Her eyes eventually came to rest on his current project, erected prominently in the very middle of the room. "Is someone you know getting married?", she asked, recognizing the quarter-to-finished wooden frame immediately.

Gibbs merely jerked his head to the side, not saying anything. Instead, he placed both of his hands on Eliana's upper arms, ignoring her suspicious gaze. He then rotated and tugged her around a bit, until she was standing right where he wanted her to stand: in the corner in front of the work bench, facing the stairs.

He let go and took a stand beside her, pointing at a spot on the top of the stairs, a little ways from the door to the basement. "From up there your daughter shot Ari, her own brother. To save me. She was twenty-three."

A look of sheer pain crossed Eliana's features and she looked away. Gibbs roughly turned her towards the wooden canopy standing in the middle of his basement.

"A chuppah", she asserted quietly.

Gibbs nodded slightly. "Never cared much for relationships on the job. Makes it too complicated. Got a rule for it, too."

"But Ziva and-"

"But on April 23rd 2011, ten years ago, two of my agents walked up to me and told me they were seeing each other. They were in love. And there was not a damn thing I could do about it."

"So you allowed it." Eliana briefly studied the details Gibbs was in the process of working into the four poles of the chuppah.

"Nah, I was pissed", Gibbs countered, a vague smile on his face. "But they stood their ground. They were for real. They proved it."

Eliana turned around, her back to the stairs and the chuppah now. She stared into Gibbs' eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you think that you know. You think you know _her_. But you have no idea what happened between up there", he said, pointing to the top of the stairs again, "and this." He raised his eyes to the chuppah he intended to finish before April 23rd this year, no matter what Ziva and Tony were planning.

"You are saying that the Ziva I think I know does not exist", Eliana concluded.

"I'm saying", Gibbs held, "that family's not given, it's earned."

* * *

><p>Ziva entered the squadroom that morning with a clothes bag slung over one, and her backpack slung over the other shoulder. She couldn't help but notice with a huff of irritation that it was a normal work day again. The mash of voices, scratching paper, sizzling electrics and retracting keystrokes crashed in on her in one big swoop of noise.<p>

Heaving a small sigh, she stepped into the bullpen and behind her desk. Tony's head instantly jerked up from behind his computer screen. "Kids come to school okay?", he asked.

"Yes", Ziva answered, bending over to punch in her password. "David has a trip coming up. We should get a note about it in the next couple of days."

Tony nodded and held his phone up into the air for her to see. "We got a new case."

Ziva finally looked up at him, briefly glancing at McGee for confirmation. "Dead Petty Officer in a park near Anacostia River", he said.

Ziva stopped herself from stowing away her things, becoming aware of the additional bag in her hand. She turned back to Tony. "Where did you put your suit?"

"Up in the on-call room", he answered, already packing his gear.

Ziva nodded and started a half-sprint up the stairs. "Meet you in the garage", she called back at them over her shoulder.

On their way to the elevator, McGee turned to Tony. "Ziva have a run-in with Eliana yesterday?"

"Yes", Tony said, stabbing the button. "And that's the last we're going to say about it today."

McGee studied Tony's face as they stepped onto the elevator. He didn't look aggravated or angry, more as though he was getting impatient for a movie to start, or as though he was already running out of popcorn beforehand.

"Got it", McGee said.

Ziva caught up with them down in the evidence garage, where they filed into the MCRT truck and went down to Anacostia. Petty Officer Alexis Graham had been stabbed multiple times not far off a small track through the park. Wallet and ID had been stolen, but fingerprints had ascertained her identity. Not far from the crime scene McGee discovered half a footprint. The soil was soft around that time of year and the perpetrator had obviously accounted for that incriminating detail, trying to obscure most of them. However, the witness, who had also called in the crime, had obviously surprised the culprit before they could finish up. Palmer, in turn, alerted them to suspicious blood spatter that could not have come from the victim. When they left the scene, the corpse on his way back to the Navy Yard in the back of the M.E. truck, the case appeared like most others they had dealt with over the years. And it was. Then again, it only made it all the more obvious how much their terrorist case, closure still pending, deviated from the day-to-day tread.

That realization was with them all, but routine surged and swept them up, sending Tony and Ziva to interrogation with the victim's boyfriend, keeping McGee busy with background checks and possible motives, giving Palmer an autopsy that revealed heavy drug abuse on the side of the victim, and had Abby soon waiting for results on fibers and blood found on the victim's clothing.

By the time Tony returned to the bullpen after his brief with Director Vance it was already a little ways into the afternoon and they had unanimously skipped lunch. He had planned on whisking Ziva away on a quick vending machine date, but his life partner was nowhere to be seen.

"Ziva not here?", he asked McGee, who was obviously working on the victim's financial background.

McGee shook his head. "After you left for autopsy she took a tablet and went upstairs."

"And you didn't find that at all odd, McWatson?", Tony countered, leaning onto McGee's desk.

McGee stopped for a moment what he was doing and looked up at his boss, cocking his head a bit to the side. "You told me not to say anything about _that_ anymore, remember?"

Tony's eyes narrowed briefly, but he let it go. "Call me if Abby has anything to talk to me about", he said, already turning around and leaving for the front elevator.

After opening two doors to find the rooms they led into empty, Tony eventually tracked down Ziva behind door number three, the conference room. Ziva was sitting in one of the chairs facing the bay window, but she looked up instantly when he entered. Tony walked over to her without a word and placed a cup on the table in front of her, and himself in a chair beside her.

Ziva took the cup and snapped the lid open, the aroma of freshly brewed jasmine tea enclosing her nostrils. But not any jasmine tea either; not some of the brew she occasionally made herself in the break room kitchen. Tony had obviously gone all the way down to the one coffee cart near the West entrance of the Navy Yard that, Ziva had discovered a couple of years ago, sold her very favorite variant of jasmine tea.

She leaned over for a quick peck on the lips, seeing as they were alone in here anyway. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome", Tony answered. "What are you doing up here?"

"Working", Ziva replied simply, taking a sip. "Case report, interview report, backgrounds on the other members of the Petty Officer's squad."

Tony surveyed the stacks of paper and the two tablets spread out over half of the table. "And you couldn't do all that sitting at your own desk in the bullpen?"

Ziva picked up on the pointed smirk that was starting to play on his lips, and her eyes narrowed noticeably. "It is quiet up here."

"And you can avoid unwanted encounters", Tony added, a full-fledged smirk on his face now. "Package deal."

Ziva just let it go, deciding that she just didn't want to get into that right now; and Tony understood that. "Did you call Gibbs? Can he take the kids?"

Tony nodded. "I went by his place on the way in. He will pick them up and we get them whenever we're done."

"When do we have to leave?"

"Service starts at four", Tony replied, glancing at the clock on his phone. "Half past three, I'd say."

Ziva nodded, taking a deep breath. "Abby and McGee?"

"They'll ride with us", he said. "Luca's looking after Liora and they let him take Tim's car. Doesn't make sense to go in separate cars anyway, so…"

"So, we are going to a funeral this afternoon", Ziva stated bluntly.

"Looks like it."

They were both not very big on funerals. They had attended too many in their lives already, and they had shed too many tears looking at caskets with loved ones and friends inside. Ziva, personally, liked to avoid funerals altogether if at all possible, too grueling were the memories. Also, after all those years she was still not accustomed to the non-Jewish rituals. She had, almost despite herself, come to take great comfort in the customs of her heritage at times like these.

Today's funeral was different, of course. Their reasons for attending were beyond normal comprehension, and yet they all felt a tug, a formal responsibility, to pay their last respects. They still could hardly fathom the width and depth of his initiating actions, but Ian Johnston had died fulfilling his duty; now it was theirs to honor that.

* * *

><p>McGee could hear his wife's footsteps all the way from the back elevator to the bullpen, smiling at their Abby-eque distinctiveness. Before she had even rounded the last orange partition, he called out, "Tony's upstairs if you need him."<p>

Abby stopped in her tracks in the middle of the bullpen, cocked her head to the side and looked at her husband through narrowed eyes. "What makes you think I'm here for Tony?", she countered.

"Because we're in the middle of a case?"

"We're _always_ in the middle of a case, Timmy", Abby clarified, crossing the remaining distance between herself and McGee's desk. "Besides, Major Mass-Spec's a little slow on results today."

McGee finally looked up. "Which gives you time for a social visit?"

Abby returned his playful smirk and conjured up a white paper bag from where she had had both of her hands hidden behind her back. She placed it squarely onto his desk. "Late lunch."

McGee chuckled slightly and pushed himself back a little in his chair. He dove down behind his desk and placed a fresh oversized _CafPow_ cup next to the bag. Abby, in turn, took her other hand out from behind her and presented him with a _Nutter-Butter_ in the flavor of his liking. Smiling, he got up and went to the free desk, grabbed the chair and brought it over for Abby to sit on.

"Looks like we're all set", he stated, sitting back down and starting to unpack the edibles.

With work schedules, work places and tasks as disparate as theirs, Abby and McGee hardly ever did full-blown lunch dates at the office. Theirs was more the in-between visit, the coffee fix in the afternoon or particularly obstinate problems in relation to computers requiring two set of hands. However, McGee had barely taken the second bite from his _Nutter-Butter_, when the doors of the elevator opened and none other than Nolan Walker stepped off of it. His eyes roamed the squadroom until they fell on the pair sitting behind a desk a little to his right.

When Abby's and McGee's eyes fell on Liora's biological father, they were momentarily left speechless, their mouths gaping in irritation. He was soon walking towards them, and even if it seemed like a most surreal moment, this was happening now.

Before Nolan had even arrived at the bullpen, McGee shot up from his chair. He wouldn't face the man that had suggested taking his daughter away from him sitting down, looking up. "What are you doing here?", he snapped once Nolan had taken a stand in front of him.

Nolan's hands were obviously sweating and he tried to wipe them on the sides of his jeans without their noticing. They noticed. "I- I came to apologize", he declared simply.

"How did you know where we work?", Abby cut in, getting up as well.

"The PI?", he replied hesitantly. "Part of the info package."

"So, first you want us to hand over our daughter, then you track us down at work to apologize", McGee summed up, sounding profoundly irritated. "You're one weird guy, you know that?"

A full-hearted chuckle escaped Nolan's lips. "I know. Seriously, guys, I know. And I know how awkward this is", he said in a rushed tone. "But I really came to apologize. I- I'm sorry. I was being a jackass before. No way should you…like _hand_ over your daughter. She's your daughter. Liora's yours. I'm just- My wife had just- You know. It- I'm sorry, 's all I wanted you to know."

"Okay", Abby replied, drawing out the syllables while her mind kept processing the onslaught of words.

"It's been quite a while, though", McGee shot back, not ready to back down on this yet. Abby knowingly reached out her hand and interlaced her fingers with her husband's, her gesture of reassurance hidden behind the desk.

"Been taking a while to man up and face you", he admitted.

McGee stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Instead, he turned to his wife and, to his surprise, found Abby looking at Nolan with a small smile on her face. He raised his eyebrows at her, but Abby just shrugged.

"Come on, Tim", she urged, nodding her head towards Nolan and his sincerely apologetic expression.

McGee sighed. "Okay. We get it. Let's forget you ever said anything."

"Thanks", Nolan said, nodding. A few seconds trickled by, then a few more, then a full minute. Nolan kept staring at the pair and they were looking back at him, unsure whether they should initiate his departure or if he would just turn to leave all by himself. Neither of these things happened, though, as Nolan finally took in a deep breath and continued, "Maybe we could…you know, not forget _everything_ I said?"

"Are you kidding me?", McGee exclaimed, but was held back by Abby from saying anything else.

"You still want to meet her?", she asked.

Nolan nodded. "I know I screwed up last time. But I would really, really like to meet her. My wife and I, we- we're looking into adoption now ourselves and- But I- I don't know. I just wanna see what she's like, I guess. That sounds weird, I know, but-"

"It's weird", Abby confirmed, pressing her lips together. "But kinda sweet as well. Tim?"

McGee turned to look at his wife and he knew that she was ready to give Nolan that one meeting with Liora. He couldn't help himself, he just didn't like that guy. But maybe, maybe that was just him projecting his fatherly anxieties into the biology of the matter. Under Abby's insistent stare, however, he eventually caved.

"Okay", McGee said. "_One_ meeting. You can see her once, but that's it. And we'll have her Aunt and Uncle and cousins around as well. You'll see what Liora's like and then you'll leave for good."

It sounded harsh, but that was just the way it was. The way it needed to be. They were Liora's parents and they wouldn't have anything jeopardize that.

"And, just so you know? Liora's Aunt is a trained assassin. So, no games", Abby added decidedly.

Nolan appreciated the sincerity in her words and he believed her, too. Still, a small smile erupted on his face. "Thank you", he said, stepping forward to hand them a card. "You call me? Whenever you want, your decision."

McGee nodded, accepting the card. They bid Nolan a curt goodbye and watched him leave, once again vanishing behind the elevator doors. As if on cue, they both sank back into their chairs, their fingers still intertwined.

"That's it", McGee asserted at once. "We're eating in the lab from now on."

"Don't worry. It will be fine. He'll see her. He'll find her cute and eat-up adorable. He'll leave", Abby assured her husband, taking a sip from her _CafPow_ to make her stance more convincing for them both.

"Well, thanks to you, he knows what's coming to him if he tries anything hinky", McGee added, smirking at her.

Abby shrugged, slipping the straw out of her mouth. "Couldn't help myself."

After their lunch together McGee accompanied Abby downstairs to the lab in order to crosscheck a few pictures with the face recognition software only installed on one of Abby's computer. Having taken the stairs, they were just rounding a corner when someone turned up in front of them, blocking their path. They stopped in their tracks, staring at the women.

Eliana straightened up to her full height, retaining a blank expression on her face. "Agent McGee, I was looking for you."

McGee briefly glanced back at his wife. "You were?"

Eliana nodded. "Director Vance said that if I ever were to encounter technical difficulties, you were the man to seek out."

"What kind of technical difficulties?", McGee inquired, unable to keep the suspicious tone out of his voice. He couldn't help it. He didn't know all the facts, he didn't want to ask for them either, and it wasn't his place. But, for what it's worth, he was on Ziva's side.

"I would like to get a message out to a very secure address", Eliana explained. "And I would very much like it to be untraceable."

"There's no such thing."

"But you would be the one to try, yes?"

"What kind of _'secure'_ are we talking about here?", he went on.

Eliana tilted her head a little to the side. "Mossad?"

McGee's eyebrows rose instantly. "And Director Vance signed off on that?"

Eliana nodded. "We can go to him and confirm it, if you want."

"Yes, I want", McGee declared. Then he turned to his wife and added, "Evidence raincheck?"

"Just tell Tony to come see me", Abby said, a small smile on her face.

"Will do", he answered, beckoning Eliana to follow him. "Let's go."

"Very well", Eliana nodded, already stepping around Abby to keep up with McGee's tread.

"Hey", Abby called after them at once. "Wait."

Both of them whirled around to look at her, both noticing that Abby's eyes were fixed on Eliana alone. McGee could only guess that Abby had a lot of things to say to Eliana David. Abby's strong sense of belonging and family was no mystery to anyone, except maybe Eliana David. McGee himself could have thought of many things to say and do as well, but he had decided early on that he would hang back on this one. When it came to fixed roles and accustomed behavior amid his NCIS family, McGee had long opted to take on 'quiet, but steady'. If Ziva needed his help or input, she would come to him. Other than that he had little interest in Eliana David.

"I'll be upstairs", he told Eliana, continuing on his intended track.

Eliana, in turn, stepped back down from the treads she had already taken and placed herself right in front of Abby, folding her hands in front of her body. Unsure of what to expect, she looked at the younger women expectantly. Abby was still debating with herself whether this was the right thing to do, and the right moment to do it. She bit her lip, looking into the auburn eyes she was so familiar with, belonging to a women she didn't know at all.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but we're a bit weird about mothers around here", she started, kneading her fingers against each other. "It's just that most of us lost our moms early."

"I am very sorry to hear that", Eliana replied softly. "But I find that having one's mother surprisingly resurrected is turning out to be quite difficult as well."

Abby swayed a little to the side, smiling. "The little girl in Ziva is thrilled, though", she gushed, her voice more somber when she added, "It's just, there's not so much little girl left in Ziva."

Eliana nodded, returning the younger woman's smile gratefully. She had not yet found anyone around here smile at her in quite the same sincere manner as Abby was smiling at her right at that moment. "The little girl I knew grew up into a woman I know nothing about", she concluded.

Abby pressed her lips together. "But she's worth it. All of them. Tony, Tali, David. They're worth it."

"I am trying", Eliana replied. "I make mistakes. But I am trying."

"Don't stop", Abby nodded.

"If she will let me. I just fear she will not let me."

"I love Ziva", Abby declared, her arms flying out beside her to emphasize the vastness of her emotions. "And I have _huge_ amounts of respect for her, for having gone through that much and become who she is. And that person, that Ziva, she will, if she wants to."

That was the crux of it all, and Eliana finally understood after all that had been said to her: If Ziva wanted to, Eliana would get her second chance. She couldn't do anything to catalyze that process, though. "So, I will keep hoping that she will", she said.

Abby simply nodded, not seeing anything else that could have been done. Also, any advice on the matter was simply not hers to give. Then again, she could do different; and that was the real reason she had been meaning to talk to Eliana.

Taking a deep breath, Abby continued, "It must hurt like hell to come back and find that you can't really just come back to anything at all."

Eliana couldn't help but laugh slightly at this. It was true, after all. So true; truth in a nutshell. "Sadly, we cannot move back in time", she said.

"I'm sorry", Abby declared offhandedly.

Eliana shook her head. "Ms. Sciuto-"

"Abby."

"Abby", Eliana repeated, "There is no need, none at all, to-"

"No, there is", Abby insisted, her voice strengthening. "I'm sorry that you had to leave your kids and that you didn't see them grow up and…well, that two of them are dead. I mean, I'm personally not so sorry about Ari, 'cause he killed my friend, but I know Ziva loved him. And Tali, she named her kid after her baby sister, so-"

Eliana was staring at her and Abby was sure she was detecting small specks of water building up in the older woman's eyes.

Abby tilted her head to the side, offering her sympathies with a small smile. "What I mean to say is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss."

* * *

><p>The funeral service for Ian Johnston was a small one. In fact, it was so small that all four of them were taken aback by the simplicity they were walking into when they entered the mausoleum. There was but a small urn, placed on top of an altar of sorts. Two candles were sharing their flickering light with the hollow darkness of the room on either side of the altar. The Navy ID portrait of Johnston was sitting to the right of the urn, and a glass of Tequila Sunrise to the left.<p>

Nobody was there but them. Granted, there was the official from the funeral home that would later lay the urn to rest wherever it was that Johnston wanted to spend the rest of eternity. But no one else was there. No mourners. No tears. They knew that Johnston had arranged everything beforehand. He had probably left detailed instructions, while he had left no one else. They could only hope that the man he had referred to as his uncle would take care of his memory.

Then again, here they were: four strangers, linked to Johnston only by the necessity of duty that had eventually cost his life. And they were paying their respects. One after the other - Tony, Abby, McGee and Ziva - they stepped up to the urn and mumbled their goodbyes, words of gratitude and determined promises.

They walked back to the car in silence. For a while that silence lingered while they sat in the car, staring out of windows at the rows of tombstones and patches of freshly mowed grass. They were momentarily hit by the ephemerality of death and looked at each other ever more closely to remind themselves that they would, if they were to go, not go all alone.

"So, Gibbs made it clear we didn't need to hurry", Tony spoke up suddenly, shifting a little in his position on the driver's side to look at the others.

"Luca and Liora are probably home by now", McGee offered in response, looking at his wrist watch to confirm. "We're in no hurry either."

"Drinks?", Ziva asked, drawing heartfelt nods all around. Tony started the engine.

After a while, they had just driven past the gate of the graveyard, McGee opened his mouth. "Eliana had me open a highly secure port to send a message to Mossad", he said slowly. He had been unable to find the right time to say it thus far, so he had just decided to say it now.

"She what?", Tony shot back, glancing at McGee through the rearview mirror. "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Vance did", McGee replied, fumbling around in his pocket until he tugged out a small piece of paper. He reached forward and handed it to Ziva. "It was Hebrew, so I didn't understand. But she wrote it down and told me to give it to you."

Ziva took the note and read it over. For a moment she was struck by the familiarity of her mother's handwriting. She had traced and memorized Eliana's words so often in her photo albums. It was still the same sweeping style of writing; still her mother's. It was a short, to-the-point message.

"She contacted Eli", she informed them, her eyes still scanning the words. "She asked him to come and help."

"I hate this", Tony exclaimed, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "I hate the sitting-duck, look-over-your-shoulder thing. We gotta get back on the offensive again."

"And how do you plan we do that?"

Tony shrugged, but his eyes told a more determined story. "I have no idea. But we better figure it out, and fast."

* * *

><p><em>Fast update, in honor of the season premiere this week. Teaser for next week's update: chapter title is "Strike Two".<em>


	29. Strike Two

_I know, unusually fast-fast updates of late; but I wanted to get this chapter out there on this day. I am guessing that, after tonight, people will have enough to discuss about NCIS as it is, so I am going to go back to more or less weekly updates again anyway. - Coginom_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 29 Strike Two <strong>

**Tuesday, April 6****th**** 2021**

Gibbs was naturally still awake when Tony called him to open his front door, which they had once again found locked. It was a little before ten in the evening and they had decided to get the kids anyway, assuming it easier to get them back home now than juggle around with a different morning routine altogether. Tony carried a still-sleeping Tali, while Ziva led a semi-conscious David to the car. Both kids fell back to sleep on cue the moment their bodies touched down on their own mattresses.

Tony and Ziva passed each other by silently, repeatedly, like home-bound cars on nightly roads, as they peeled off the glaringly black clothes they had worn that afternoon and washed away the remnants of the day. For a while they busied themselves with little tasks, here and there, unable to go to sleep just yet. It was a little after midnight when they met in the hallway, one exiting the study, the other coming up the stairs, and finally came to stand opposite each other.

"Have you-", Tony started, but was interrupted by the sound of soft whimpers drifting over from Tali's room.

They instantly abandoned whatever question Tony had started to form and hurried into their daughter's room, finding the five-year-old thrashing around in her sleep, her face contorted in silent, dream-induced anguish. Ziva quickly knelt down by her daughter's bed, her hand shooting out to brush back Tali's curls.

"Tali", she called out softly, "Tateleh, wake up."

Tali's body stilled at once and her eyelids fluttered open. "Mama?", she croaked, her tired eyes landing on the reassuring presence of her mother beside her.

"Bad dream, princess?", Tony asked from where he stood guard at the footend of the bed, looking at her sympathetically.

Tali turned to him and nodded. "Really bad."

Ziva got up and took a seat on the bed, drawing Tali gently into her arms. She kissed the little girl's head. "It is over now. Hakol beseder, tateleh."

"Anything you want taken care of, princess?", Tony asked, looking around the room. "Monsters under the bed, zombies in the closet? Bad fairies hiding behind the curtains?"

Tali let out a laugh at her father's weird suggestions, but shook her head. "It was just really, really dark and scary."

"Want to come and stay with us for the night?", Tony suggested, brushing over his daughter's hair from where he had stepped up behind Ziva.

Tali glanced at him over her mother's shoulder and shook her head decidedly. "I'm a big girl now, 'member?"

"You sure?"

Tali nodded her head.

"As you wish, princess", Tony said, arranging the covers and holding them up.

Ziva got up and allowed Tali to crawl back beneath her blanket, tucking it in around her daughter. When she noticed Shim lying on the floor, she reached down and picked him up. Nowadays Tali's beloved hippo usually spent his time sitting on her nightstand, looking on protectively. He must have fallen victim to Tali's vehement struggle. Ziva was just about to put Shim back in his usual place when Tali's arms shot out for him. Ziva handed the stuffed animal to her daughter and the five-year-old cuddled up with him, her head resting against his comforting softness.

Ziva and Tony shared a brief glance and smile, before they both bent down for another goodnight kiss.

"Layla tov, tateleh."

"Nuh-ight", Tali yawned in response, her eyes already closing.

* * *

><p>The next morning, after having taken the kids to school together, Tony and Ziva went to the Navy Yard early. Before Johnston's funeral service the day before, Abby had come up with the fiber and DNA results on their most recent case; the murder of Petty Officer Graham. Ziva and McGee had gone to question the Petty Officer's squad thereafter, homing in on two of them who Ziva had found particularly intriguing given their history of teenage drug abuse. They had readily informed them that Graham had accrued considerable debts, which didn't come as a surprise seeing as McGee had uncovered that fact with a thorough financial background check. Eventually, they had also given up the name of Graham's suspected supplier, an old friend of theirs. They had called him in for questioning and Tony had set out for the interrogation room the moment they had entered the squadroom that morning.<p>

"We got him?", Ziva asked when Tony returned to the bullpen an hour later with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Said it was an accident, wanted to make it look like a mugging", Tony explained, flinging the now-closed file onto his desk. "Marshals taking him in as we speak."

"Closed a case, DiNozzo?", Gibbs inquired, stepping into the bullpen with a tray of coffees in hand. He placed it onto McGee's desk and motioned for them to help themselves.

"We're that good", Tony boasted in his best Scottish accent, grabbing a cup.

"So, why am I here?", Gibbs went on, taking a stand in the middle of the bullpen. Before leaving with the kids the other night, Tony had asked him to come in the next morning.

"Same reason we are here", Abby replied suddenly, turning up behind one of the back partitions with Eliana by her side. Upon Tony's questioning look, Abby added, "We just met in the elevator." She quickly made a beeline for McGee's desk while Eliana stayed back, hovering around the free desk on the other side of the bullpen.

"We need to figure out how to get to Arik and Kadeer, before they can get to us", Ziva declared, getting up and rounding her desk to lean against it, her eyes only briefly landing on Eliana.

Gibbs nodded, taking a sip. "Plans?"

"That's what the figuring-out part is all about", Tony responded, stepping up beside his former boss. "What we _do_ know is who they are after. And that they probably think Eliana's still cooped up in her hidey-hole."

"Maybe they're keeping closer tabs on us than we think?", McGee offered, looking at his former and current boss. "I could check for recent hacker activities to NCIS services and other agencies."

"I could check the evidence we have on them again", Abby added. "Maybe even go back to Johnston's records. Maybe we missed something?"

Ziva folded her hands in front of her chest. "I could get in touch with some of my contacts. Maybe they know something that we do not."

Gibbs listened to all of their suggestions, taking the occasional sip. He met Tony's eyes for a brief glance. "You're fishing."

"I know", Tony admitted through semi-gritted teeth.

"Well, my dear friends, maybe I can be of assistance then", Ducky proclaimed, entering the bullpen. He instantly drew their collective attention to his perfectly timed entrance. "I have just finished my psychological profile."

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but you've been taking your time on this, Ducky", Tony remarked tentatively.

Ducky scowled at the younger man. "You will remember that we are up against a group of terrorists, obliging me to assort not only multiple separate profiles, but also a group profile to gain an understanding of the dynamics of their joint endeavor."

"But Kadeer is the driving force here, isn't he?", McGee threw in quickly.

Ducky nodded. "Yes, he is. While Arik and Nuri, also Baila, are serving the legacy of their heritage and share loyalty to a joint cause, this headhunt ties into _personal_ issues for Haswari."

"Nuri's dead, Ducky", Ziva retorted. "And Baila might be as well, for all we know."

"But that does not discount the significance of their involvement with the group as one of multiple factors that need to be taken into consideration here", Ducky explained. "And then there are unsolved mysteries that I encountered, not least among them Arik's stake in the operation. Some details about his history-"

"Ducky", Tony cut in more forcefully than before, "We're looking to get an edge here. We need you to look into the future, not the past."

"We need to know where they will strike", Ziva added, her voice no less urgent, but softer than Tony's. "How they will try to get to Eliana."

Gibbs nodded. "Set up a trap."

"They will go after Ziva", Eliana stated all of a sudden, drawing all eyes on her. Her expression, however, was unreadable.

"How do you know that?", McGee asked.

"We need to be sure about this", Tony added.

"I am sure", Eliana insisted, obviously having thought about this for a long time. "They went after you before."

Ziva's eyebrows shot up. "They what?"

"In the days after Kadeer made me and before I- I left", Eliana explained, her eyes focused on her daughter. "I did not go to pick you up anymore, but Eli found a car in front of Tali's school one day, watching her. He set all three of you up with protection from officers in his unit after that. Tali we even kept home after that."

Ziva's mind raced. Memories flared up in front of her eyes. "Tali was teasing us about it-"

"They were keeping your youngest daughter under surveillance?", Ducky inquired, stepping between mother and daughter with suspicion lacing his voice.

Eliana nodded. "Yes, Eli went after the car immediately, but they got away."

Ducky frowned at this. "Did this happen with Ziva and Ari as well?"

"I would assume so", Eliana replied, folding her hands in front of her body. "My children were the easiest way to get to me."

"But there was no incident of the sort?"

"No, but-"

Ducky shook his head, a sigh dripping from his lips. "You chould have shared this detail with me earlier", he griped, his tone dripping with more aggravation than they had heard in a long time.

Gibbs stepped forward. "What are you thinking, Duck?"

"They went after your little sister, specifically", Ducky answered, looking directly at Ziva. "They did not go after you or your brother."

"How would you know that?", Eliana inquired from behind the older man.

Ducky whirled around to look at her, as he pressed on, "While I was putting together my report, I kept wondering why they did not act sooner. Days went by before you seized an opportune moment to end the chase on your own terms. We have seen ample evidence to support the assumption that Kadeer does not act rashly. He likes to have a meticulous plan. They monitored Tali, but they did not go in and get her by sheer force."

"Ducky, we _know_ they're planning something", Tony said. "The question now is _what_?"

"He will not go after Ziva. He will not just fall into a trap involving her", Ducky asserted. "It would be too risky to go after her. He needs to be in control. There is too much about you, Ziva, he cannot determine with fair certainty beforehand. You might be the daughter of Eliana, and thus the _closest_ link to her, but he will not take that risk simply for that reason. This is not about you."

"What are you saying, Ducky?", Ziva asked slowly, straightening up in a bid to suffocate the clot forming somewhere in her stomach.

"Tali, your sister Tali, she was the _weakest_ link to your mother. She was five, unable to defend herself, unable to comprehend."

"What are you saying, Ducky?", Ziva repeated, more forcefully this time as she took a step forward.

"That your children are possibly in greater danger to be the target of their next strike. Kadeer cannot be sure that you do not know who and where Eliana is. When they get to the children, they get to you _and_ they get to Eliana. Maybe it would even set you two against each other", Ducky concluded, his voice and face conveying the urgency of the matter. "Zugzwang, Ziva. We need to think gambit, not brute force."

Ziva whipped around to face Tony, finding the same alarmed look on his face. But by that time he had already jumped towards his desk and was retrieving his gear. He nodded towards Ziva's backpack behind her desk. "School's over for the day."

Ziva, Gibbs and McGee instantly sprang into action, holstering their guns and grabbing for ID and backpacks. Tony stepped back out into the middle of the bullpen, turning towards his team. "Gibbs, Ziva, you get Tali. McGee and I get David."

Eliana was about to step forward, her mouth gaping with unshed words. Ziva spun around with an almost manic expression coating the fear in her eyes. "You do not move", she barked. "Abby, you restrain her if you must."

Abby nodded, a bit unsure of her own response. Together she, Ducky and Eliana watched as the other four sprinted out of the squadroom and down the flight stairs; hoping that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

><p>The car with Gibbs behind the wheel raced through the streets, overtaking one, two, three cars before taking a swerve to the right. He was going as fast as he could, but Ziva's fingers were still drumming harmonies of impatience along her thighs. She grumbled something intelligibly Hebrew under her breath when he slowed down before a red light, still overtaking the next two cars that weren't fast enough for his liking. He glanced at her. Her face was set in stone, unmoving.<p>

"I have had a feeling about this all along", she hissed, her hand once again grazing the gun fastened to her belt.

"You're their mom, Ziver", Gibbs reasoned, hitting the breaks swiftly before a sharp left turn. "Feeling's what you do."

"Tony is right. This, our world, it's not safe", Ziva continued, her thoughts deaf to Gibbs' reasoning. "We should have never let them out of our sight."

Gibbs huffed. "That's your plan? Lock them up?"

Ziva's head whirled around, glaring at him for no other reason than her own fear. "The second Eliana walked in, that is exactly what we should have done."

Gibbs shook his head vaguely. "Doesn't work that way."

"It should."

"They're at school. They are safe", Gibbs cautioned, turning into the street where Tali's preschool was located.

Ziva looked at the sun outside the window, the warm weather it was inducing, and at her watch. "Not when they are outside."

Gibbs pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car first chance he got. Ziva yanked the door on her side open, jumping out and setting off in full sprint towards the school building. She had a bad feeling about all of this.

* * *

><p>Tony pushed his foot down on the gas pedal the very moment cross traffic appeared to be coming to a halt. "Can't we have normal? Why is normal so hard?", he pressed out through gritted teeth, overtaking another car on their way.<p>

"Normal is overrated", McGee remarked, his eyes glued to the GPS system installed in the center console, counting down the miles separating them from Gavington Elementary.

"Two years ago that Wheeler woman got to Tali before we did. And now this", Tony griped, taking a sharp left.

"That wasn't even about Tali back then. It turned out fine, and so will this", McGee reassured him, gripping the handle of the door when Tony took a sharp right at the next possible chance.

"If this turns out well, we start homeschooling."

"Because that sure won't scar them for life." McGee had meant it as a joke, but the way Tony's face contorted with worry at his words caused him to backpedal quickly. "It's going to be fine, Tony. We'll get them, they'll be safe."

Tony swerved, stopping the car at the entrance of the parking lot in front of David's school. "If not, I'm gonna start burning a whole lotta olive branches", Tony shot back, scrambling out of the car.

* * *

><p>Ziva and Gibbs stood surveying the school yard after having passed the laughable security check at the entrance that they would have both found at least four different ways to bypass without much effort. Kids were scurrying around, running, laughing, hiding. Ziva spotted Ms. Rachel, Tali's class teacher, and all around her faces of kids she had seen before. She noticed Anna, Tali's friend, running back and forth between a sandbox and the play house. But no Tali.<p>

"I don't see her", Ziva yelled towards Gibbs, her heart pumping anxiously in her chest.

Gibbs followed her line of vision and was just about to suggest going over there, when his eyes fell on the fleeting shape of a tall, dark-haired man rounding a corner at the very back of the yard. A row of dumpsters instantly blocked his vision, but he could see a pair of men's boots alongside a pair of small-sized, little-girl sneakers through the open cracks at the bottom.

"Ziva", Gibbs called out, nodding towards the dumpster line-up.

"Tali?"

Gibbs nodded. He motioned for her to take the other side and come at it from outside while he would follow tail them from inside the yard. Ziva quickly nodded in affirmation and sprinted back outside, rounding half of the yard before she arrived at the dumpsters. Instinctually, her hand flew to the gun at her side as she crept along the small footpath that led out to a tree-lined strip separating the school yard from a community playing field annexed to the preschool. She took a few cautious steps forward. Then she saw him: tall, dark hair, walking hastily down the tree arcade, Arik; and beside him a little girl, her dark curls tamed into two braids that Ziva herself had done that morning because they had been up early and Tali had asked her to.

"NCIS! Freeze!", Ziva yelled, quickening her steps.

The man turned around at once, his arm clutching Tali's shoulders. "Mommy!", the five-year-old called back in surprise, her face distorted in confusion.

Ziva was now standing only two feet away from the pair, her eyes briefly scanning Tali up and down for obvious injuries or other tricks, then focused back on Arik. She noticed a gun strapped to his right side, but he made no move to retrieve it. He must've noticed her SIG as well, but he didn't even flinch. Tali looked between the man and her mother, searching for her mother's eyes, but Ziva was entirely focused on Arik now. Ziva debated for a few seconds if drawing her gun was worth frightening her daughter.

All of a sudden Arik grabbed Tali by the shoulders and pulled her in front of him, his eyes remaining with Ziva. Her eyes instantly zoomed in on Arik's forehead, to the very spot she was ready to put a bullet, if he made her little girl so much as flinch. For a fleeting second, though, she thought she could see something odd cross his features. Was it relief? Then his mouth opened, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Take her", he barked, shoving Tali towards her.

Tali, free from the man's grasp, instantly threw her body forward and flung herself at Ziva's legs. Relief washing over her, Ziva abandoned her fighter instincts for a second and slung her arms around her daughter, shielding her from whatever might come next. When she looked back up, however, Arik was gone. She could hear footsteps on the gravel path; a car swerving, breaking. Instinctively, Ziva fell to her knees and wrapped her body around her daughter, turning Tali tightly into her and away from the noise.

"You okay, Ziva?", Gibbs' voice caused her to look up a minute later. He was out of breath, and had worry etched all over his face.

Ziva didn't answer, though, and lifted herself up enough to look at her daughter. Tears were brimming in Tali's eyes. "Are you alright, tateleh?" Tali nodded her head, confusion all over her face. "Baruch Hashem…", she breathed, once again engulfing Tali in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her little girl's head.

"Van pulled up. Didn't get to him in time", Gibbs stated, looking at Ziva. "I got the model and half the plate."

Ziva nodded, not letting go of her daughter just yet.

"Was I bad, mommy?", Tali suddenly whispered into her ear from the side.

"What? No, tateleh. Of course not", Ziva said, pulling back a little to look into her daughter's eyes, tears still threatening to fall.

"'Cause the man said he- he's Saba Eli's friend and that- that Saba Eli told him to get me", Tali explained in a small voice, interrupting herself with the occasional sniffle.

For a moment Ziva could do nothing but gape at her daughter. Her eyes briefly darted towards Gibbs, who was sporting the same look of suspicious irritation she had detected on his face two days ago at his house.

"All right, tateleh", Ziva said, unable to think of anything else to say and offering her daughter the biggest smile she could muster right now. "You did nothing wrong."

Tali nodded, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her jacket before letting her head fall back against Ziva's shoulder.

"Come on, let's get you home", Gibbs offered, reaching out his hand.

Ziva nodded and got up from the ground, taking Tali along with her. The little girl quickly wrapped her legs around her mother's waist and her arms tightly around her neck, trying to make herself as small as possible. Without complaint or rolling her eyes Ziva accepted Gibbs' hand on the small of her back, his touch leading her forward. They quickly went back to the school building where Ziva informed Ms. Rachel, with a simply crafted and skillfully executed lie, that she had been planning to check up on Tali, because the five-year-old hadn't been feeling well all morning, and that she would take her home early. Seeing as Tali was by now hiding her face in the crook of Ziva's neck, claiming that the little girl was coming down with something appeared believable enough. Ziva just couldn't find it in her to blame the young woman for anything that had just happened. What was her daughter's teacher going to do, if her federal-agent parents had just blatantly failed their little girl?

While Gibbs tried to explain to an aggravated Tony what had happened over the phone, Ziva settled down in the back seat of the car and readjusted Tali in her lap. She could hear her partner's voice yelling in disbelief on the other end. When Gibbs finally hung up, he fixed Ziva through the rearview mirror.

"McGee's taking them home now."

"David?"

"He's okay. Tony just picked him up early", Gibbs replied quickly, starting the engine.

Ziva softly caressed Tali's cheek with the back of her hand, and leaned down to whisper into the little girl's ear, "We are going home to daddy now."

Tali smiled slightly, her head not leaving its comfortable position against Ziva's chest. Ziva kept stroking Tali's arm absently, keeping her eyes on her daughter and trying to keep her own heart rate and apprehension in check so as not to further aggravate her little girl. A deep breath tore through her. She had been taught to stay calm and composed with gun barrels pressed to her forehead, with little red digits ticking by on bombs and with death held against her. Today, however, Ziva David had ascertained with overwhelming evidence what she had long suspected: Calm and composed went out of the window screaming bloody murder when it was her child that was in danger.

Ziva could see the wheels in her daughter's head turning, the confusion; she felt it, clearly, in the manner the five-year-old kept threading her Magen David pendant with her little fingers. Mother and daughter were only yanked from their thoughts when Gibbs opened the door in front of their apartment building. He reached out two hands and helped lift Tali from Ziva's embrace, but the little girl didn't stray far. The moment Ziva had climbed out of the car, Tali's arms shot up at her and Ziva painfully flashed back to the memories of her baby girl that had always so possessively demanded to be picked up and held close. Sighing inwardly, Ziva bent down and lifted her daughter once again into her arms, instantly reminded of the fact that her little girl was just not as little anymore.

"See you tomorrow, princess", Gibbs whispered, tilting his head down to plant a kiss on Tali's forehead.

Tali raised her head enough to return the gesture. "'morrow", she mumbled.

Gibbs shot a pointed look into Ziva's direction and she nodded. She would trust no one but Gibbs with her children right now. Then her eyes darted to a particular spot at her right hip and Gibbs readily understood. He stepped behind her, allowing Ziva to free an arm from around Tali and unclip the holster fastened to her belt. Reaching her hand back, Gibbs took the gun from her.

Turning slightly, her mouth twisted with a rueful smile. "Thank you."

"Take care of your family."

Ziva nodded and they bid their goodbyes, but not without Gibbs instructing her to call, no matter the time, if they needed anything. Upstairs Ziva quietly crept into their apartment. Small flickers of light trickled in from the living room. Judging from the muffled sounds Tony and David were watching TV. David's chuckle was carried in from beyond the door and Ziva couldn't help but smile. With Tali still wrapped into her embrace Ziva crouched down, Tali's feet touching down on the floor. The little girl's arms promptly tightened around Ziva's neck.

"Just for a second, tateleh", Ziva reasoned with her daughter, gently taking hold of Tali's hands at the back of her neck. "I just need to get your shoes and jacket."

Tali shook her head adamantly. "Don't go away, mommy", the five-year-old mumbled against the side of Ziva's face.

Ziva started drawing circles on Tali's back. "I am not going away, neshomeleh", she assured her. "I am not leaving you. I promise."

Ziva could only guess really how confusing all this must have been for the five-year-old. It barely made sense to her either; everything had happened in such a rush of visceral reactions. She waited another heartbeat and then gently pried Tali away from her, kissing the little girl's forehead. Ziva quickly got Tali out of the jacket and took off her shoes. She only stood there, unmoving, and then fell back against her mother.

Ziva got up with Tali back in her arms, already starting to feel the little girl's weight echo in her muscles. She struggled with peeling off her own boots, but managed somehow. When they entered the living room, some sort of animated feature was greeting her from their TV. David was leaning against Tony and Ziva could see his shoulders heaving from muffled laughter. She felt herself still at the sight, not wanting to disturb them just yet. Eventually, however, she knew she had to break up the moment.

Hoisting Tali higher in her arms she called out softly, "Tony?"

Instantly, Tony's head whipped around to look at her. She could practically watch the relief wash away the tension in his shoulders the moment his emerald eyes landed on their daughter, safely wrapped up in her mother's arms. He jumped up from the couch, taking David right along with him. He hastened over, stopping only inches from them. His hand found its way to Tali's cheek.

"Hey there, baby girl", he greeted, smiling broadly at his little princess.

"Daddy", Tali said, taking hold of his hand and offering a smile that easily transformed his own into a much broader grin.

"You remembered!", he quipped with faux enthusiasm, kissing her nose and eliciting a small giggle.

Ziva's eyes meanwhile fell on her son, who was standing a little to the side, watching them closely. She offered him a small smile and he stepped closer, turning to face his little sister. "You okay, Tali?", he inquired, his forehead set in a frown.

Tali nodded her head. "Hungry", she declared, looking between her parents. Tony and Ziva laughed out loud; Tony's daughter through and through.

Tony quickly offered to whip up some late lunch and David readily offered his help. In the meantime Ziva went upstairs with Tali. She ran a huge bubble bath, knowing how much Tali loved those. With its prospect looming happily she had a much easier time getting Tali to abandon her embrace. Ziva gently started washing the little girl's hair, watching with a smile of relief as the five-year-old gradually began recruiting her toys for the usual bathing banter. All the while Ziva kept covertly scanning the little girl's body over for any sign of injury or bruising; thankfully finding nothing of the sort. She didn't know what she would have done if she had, suddenly feeling the uneasy tickle of vomit at the back of her throat.

The moment Ziva had put fresh clothing on her and had successfully untangled and dried her hair, Tali didn't return to her toys, however, but staid by her mother's side as they went back downstairs. The little girl also didn't stray far from Ziva's side at the kitchen table, only eventually transferring to Tony's lap when Ziva announced ice cream for dessert and got up to get it. It wasn't their daughter to keep silent, to mumble responses and not use the full volume of her voice, to use small gestures and not those big expressions that set her face alight with purport. That much was obvious.

Later Tali did move to join David's game, but soon relocated to the couch where Tony and Ziva were sitting, nodding off against Tony's shoulder. The exhaustion of the day's events had finally caught up with her. David was drawing at the kitchen table and Ziva was busying herself and her thoughts with preparing dinner, when they started hearing Tali's voice again after a little over two hours. Looking out into the living room, Ziva found her daughter immersed in a heated debate with Tony regarding the cartoon that was on now. Ziva had to smile, almost despite herself.

Their debate continued throughout dinner and they extended their stay at the kitchen table with a simple-enough board game. Both Ziva and Tony expected Tali, more herself now than she had been before, to question what had happened today, but she never did. David, on the other hand, kept shooting them inquisitive glances; glances they could not answer right now. Before long, however, Tali had once again crawled into her mother's lap and soon the little girl was only barely paying attention anymore.

"Some more sleep, princess?", Tony asked, searching the little girl's eyes.

"Uh-huh." Tali nodded, leaning her head back against her mother's shoulder.

"I will put her down in our room", Ziva said as she got up with her daughter, meeting Tony's nod.

When she had rounded the corner to the living room, Ziva could hear David finally asking Tony whether Tali really was okay. Tony reassured him decidedly, chalking Tali's demeanor up to her being tired. Ziva, attuned to the half-tones in Tony's voice, knew that he was only halfway believing himsef, causing her to recognize with a pang of guilt the true effort of trying to keep their children safe despite living in a world that wasn't safe at all.

In their bedroom Ziva carefully placed Tali in the middle of their king-sized bed, tucking the covers in around her. Then she got in beside her daughter, smoothing back Tali's wayward curls and watching her daughter breathe, rhythmically, safely. They stayed that way for some time, until Ziva noticed Tony emerging from the hallway, a questioning look on his face. She shrugged her shoulders. Assuring herself of Tali's peaceful slumber, she leaned down, brushed a kiss against the little girl's forehead and moved to climb out of bed.

At that moment, however, Tali stirred. Her little arm shot out and grabbed Ziva's hand possessively. "Mama?"

"I'm here, neshomeleh. I am right here", Ziva reassured her, lying back down beside the little girl and drawing her close once more.

"Stay?", Tali requested quietly, moving her face into Ziva's chest.

"I stay. I'm staying right here with you." Ziva smiled down at her, kissing the top of her head. She watched the little girl's eyelids slip to a close once more and only tore her eyes away to look up, shooting Tony a worried glance.

He looked no less concerned, but an impish smile quickly found its way to his face. "I got an idea", he declared suddenly, winking and leaving her a bit confused.

She could hear him call David's name downstairs, but then their voices grew muffled and indiscernible. The apartment fell silent except for the odd ruffling and shuffling sound and David occasionally dashing upstairs just to run back downstairs a few moments later. And Ziva was left wondering. She wondered, but she didn't worry. Those were the moments when she was ever so glad to have Tony there with her, glad that he was the father of her children. There was a balance to those moments, a balance that made her feel safe and ready to go up against anything. He would take care of it, in his way; of that she was absolutely certain. In the meantime all that she could do - really, all that she wanted to do - was to hold her daughter and keep her close.

Good half an hour later David reappeared at the door to the bedroom. "Dad and I got a surprise", he announced proudly.

"Downstairs?", Ziva asked, already shifting Tali's weight in her arms so she had an easier time getting out of bed with the least disturbance to her sleeping daughter.

David nodded eagerly, a broad grin adorning his face. Ziva allowed him to guide her down the stairs, dutifully leading the way and holding her by the arm as though she might take the wrong turn in the hallway if it weren't for him. Arriving in the living room, Ziva's eyes widened in surprise.

"Tada!", Tony called out, putting his hands on David's shoulders as the eight-year-old joined him on the other side of the room, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

"You just did this?", Ziva whispered.

The coffee table was gone and put against the wall. In its place they had assembled mattresses, pillows and blankets from probably all over the apartment, creating the most comfortable looking campsite Ziva had ever seen. She cast a sideways glance at Tali, whose eyes had fluttered open, but who was barely awake to notice.

"This way no one has to sleep alone tonight", David clarified enthusiastically.

"And the fridge is just around the corner", Tony added.

Ziva could only nod, the smile on her face speaking for itself. Tali didn't wake enough to comment on their in-house camping that night. Instead, she slept restfully amongst her family, leaving confusion to simmer and boil another day.


	30. Sinking In

**Chap 30 Sinking In **

**Wednesday, April 7****th**** 2021**

Tony awoke to a feeling of complete numbness in his left arm. He adjusted his eyes to the light in the room, so different from the searing darkness, among which he had finally fallen asleep yesterday. He had spent hours just watching his family sleep, his glances meeting Ziva's equally watchful gaze more than once. Now, when he looked over, Ziva was gone from her spot next to Tali and David was using his arm as an add-on to the mattress. Ever so carefully, Tony tugged his arm free from underneath his son, trying not to wake him. His diligent moves suddenly elicited a small chuckle from somewhere to his right. Looking up, Tony found Ziva leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen, a mug in hand, watching him. He rolled his eyes.

"How long you been standing there?", he mumbled, slowly getting up from the floor.

Ziva briefly glanced at him as he came to stand next to her, before her eyes returned to the peacefulness that were their children's sleeping forms. "Long", she answered dryly.

Tony took to massaging a painful cramp in the back of his neck, leaning over to examine the contents of her mug. "You're stressed", he observed.

Ziva scoffed. "Am I now?"

"Green tea with milk", he elaborated, motioning at the mug and stepping around her for access to the kitchen.

Ziva chose to leave it at that. "Coffee's in the pot", she remarked, not turning around.

She listened to Tony rummage through the kitchen cabinets as quietly as he could, her eyes meanwhile fixated on David and Tali. David was lying on his side, one arm tugged beneath his head. Tali, however, was sprawled out to his left, using all there was of the mattress to her sleeping disposal. A small smile formed on Ziva's face upon the sound of soft snores emanating from her daughter's lips.

"Just like her mom", Tony teased, appearing next to her and taking a sip of his coffee.

Ziva waited for a moment. "What are we going to tell her?", she asked in a whisper, speaking more to herself than to Tony.

"Tell both of them", Tony corrected, his eyes falling on his son. "David was in the car with McGee and me when Gibbs called. Took me more than the ride home to convince him the two of you were okay."

Ziva nodded slowly. "How do we tell them that we failed? How do we explain that we did not protect her?"

Tony's eyes landed on his daughter, his little girl, as she turned herself deeper into her pillow. "I doubt they'll see it that way."

"But _I_ see it that way, Tony", she insisted. "Have you not noticed how scared and confused she was yesterday?"

"Of course I noticed", Tony countered, searching for her eyes. "But I also noticed how her mom and dad and brother did everything they could to make her feel safe."

Ziva hinted at a small nod, her eyes returning to the living room. "And what do we say when they ask what happened?"

"The truth", Tony declared. "Because we did protect them."

Ziva wasn't so sure about that. "Arik gave her back to me."

"He what?"

"He could have drawn his gun. He could have run away with Tali, and I wouldn't have fired a shot in fear of hurting my little girl", Ziva explained, turning to look at Tony. "He gave her back to me without a fight."

Tony frowned. "What the hell?", he exclaimed before taking a minute to think. "To get away maybe?"

Ziva occupied her lips quickly with a sip from her mug. Her eyes gained a faraway look. "When I was ten, my father decided that we had to- How do you say? Toughen up?"

"A ten-year-old?" Tony grimaced, deciding not to question the segue.

"With my mother gone we were the only ones left to him. I guess, he wanted to make sure nobody would ever get to us", Ziva asserted slowly, that particular vantage point still coming difficult to her. "So, he arranged for us to be _taken away_ much like Tali almost was. Separately. Without us knowing about it. And we spent days with strangers and I remember- I remember them questioning us about my father, about his routines, his habits. We had been taught to keep secrets."

Tony scoffed. "He wanted to test you?"

Ziva nodded. "I was left at this…_house_ for two days with them, before my father came. I was so scared at night, but I wanted to make him proud, you know?" A sad smile twisted Ziva's lips and her gaze dropped to the cloudy liquid in her mug. "Do as I knew he wanted me to do. And I remember on that second night he opened the door to the room I was in and he was standing there, so big and daunting, and he had a smile on his face. He told me he was proud of me."

Tony gazed at her in disbelief. Never before had she told him that story and he knew how hard those stories were for her to tell. He was much more open about his past in that he would let a comment slip or make a sarcastic remark or just get a look in his eyes that Ziva would be able to read. Then she would ask and he would answer. Ziva, however, seldom gave him the chance to know what to ask. He had always cherished her willing self-disclosure as a special form of intimacy between them.

"And from that day on I knew what I had to be." Ziva let go of her smile and looked up into the eyes of the man she loved. Knowing him, she could hardly fathom what Tony was thinking now, the silent curses and angry disbelief she saw flickering in the emerald of his eyes. But she loved him for not shooting her memories down with words, and for taking them for what they were. "I have been standing here for hours and all I can think about is that moment when Eli stepped through that door."

"He was proud of you", Tony said, running the knuckles of his free hand gently down her back. "You needed that."

Ziva nodded. She caught Tony's hand at the base of her back and guided it to rest on her side, interlacing her fingers with his. "Are you not proud of your daughter?", she asked quietly, her eyes lot leaving their hands.

"Not the same thing", Tony declared and tilted his head to meet her eyes. "And I'll make it a point that she knows I'm always proud of her, no matter what she does."

A smile formed on Ziva's face and she lifted their intertwined hands up to caress his cheek with the back of hers. "That is why you are such a good father."

"Just trying to keep up with you", Tony clarified. "We are not responsible for what happened. _You_ are not responsible."

Ziva started to shake her head. "If it had not been for me-"

"People decided to take her, bad people. No matter their intentions. They did, not you", Tony asserted. "You protected her. You protected our little girl. She is lucky to have you, and so am I."

Ziva drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly in rhythm with a small nod as she leaned against his chest. When Tony tilted his head to rest his chin on her head she felt safe, protected. It had taken her years, well into their relationship, to let herself lean on him without feeling weak, without feeling like a failure. She slightly fell back against the arm he had looped around her and stretched a little, meeting his lips for a tender kiss.

"So there's no breakfast yet?", David chimed in, cutting their moment short.

They briefly smiled against each other before breaking apart, both looking at their son with obvious amusement. David's light-brown hair was sticking into all directions and his pajamas looked disheveled and well slept-in.

Tony reached out to ruffle his hair. "That mean you're hungry?"

David nodded, drowsily falling against his mother. Ziva chuckled, loosely wrapping her arms around the eight-year-old. "Special wishes?"

The little boy rolled his eyes up at her. "Pancakes?"

"But only if you make sure your dad does not try flipping them again", Ziva whispered, a playful smirk on her face.

"Hey!", Tony exclaimed.

"Dad, you tossed it against the window", David reminded him, trying to hide his laughter behind a slightly reprimanding tone.

Tony scoffed. "So I'll aim for the toaster this time."

Both mother and son started laughing, but their moment of sweet hilarity was interrupted by Tali's voice drifting in from the living room. "Mommy? Daddy?"

Tony's and Ziva's eyes met in a knowing glance. They could either tackle this right away, or leave it simmering beneath the surface. The decision was made when they both stepped back into the living room and walked over to their daughter, David in tow.

"Boker tov, neshomeleh", Ziva greeted as she sat down on the couch and let Tali climb into her lap.

"Morning, princess", Tony said, kissing the top of her head before taking a seat beside Ziva and tapping the free space between them for David to hop onto.

"Did you have a good sleep?", Ziva asked, inclining her head a little so she could look into her daughter's drowsy eyes.

Tali nodded, but didn't move an inch from where she was snuggled against her mother. They stayed that way for a while, too. Tony and Ziva had no idea how to start the conversation they knew they had to have and Tali didn't seem ready to voice whatever it was that was going on in her five-year-old mind. So, getting tired of looking on in silence, it was David who finally spoke up.

"What happened yesterday?", he asked bluntly, looking between his parents. "Why'd we have to leave school?"

Tali shifted slightly in her position on Ziva's lap to get a better look at both of her parents. Ziva glanced at Tony, urging him silently to take the lead on this.

"Well, you see", he started slowly, trying to make the words sound right. "We told you that your mom and I are going after a bad man again, right?"

David nodded vaguely. "And that bad man tried to take Tali?"

"No", Ziva denied promptly, unconsciously tightening her arms around her daughter. She looked down at Tali, the five-year-old's eyes raised apprehensively at her. "No, he did not try to take you away, tateleh", Ziva repeated. "He was trying to protect you. He is a friend of your Saba Eli's. That is what he said, yes?"

Tali nodded. "And that he'll take me to him", the little girl confirmed in a small voice

"Yes. He wanted to protect you from the bad man and take you to your grandfather."

Tony's eyes locked with Ziva's when she looked back up. His gaze was questioning, skeptical even, but Ziva merely nodded her head in a way that told him to trust her on this. He couldn't very well do anything else right now anyway, she had already led the way.

"But there's still a bad man out there", Tony continued. "And your mom and I, and your Uncle McGee and your Aunt Abby, and even Uncle Gibbs and Uncle Ducky, we are all working to keep him far, far away from you two, okay? That's why we picked you up early from school."

"So that we may have time to make a plan to catch the bad guy", Ziva added.

"Saba Eli's not here to help?", David inquired.

"Soon", Ziva replied, earning herself another one of Tony's scowls that she shot down with a small nod. "He will be here soon."

"We go to school t'day?", Tali asked then, still trying to process the explanation she had just been offered.

Tony shook his head. "No school today for either of you", he said, smiling broadly in an innate effort to sell the precarious situation they were finding themselves in as some sort of wild adventure.

"You will spend the day with your Uncle Gibbs instead", Ziva went on, instantly brightening their smiles.

But excitement did not last long on David's face as his eyes clouded over again quickly. "And you?"

"We'll keep working on protecting you and your sister."

"And on putting the bad guy away, so we will not have to worry about him anymore", Ziva added, offering her son a knowing smile.

"Pinky promise?", Tali chimed in, holding out the finger in question.

Tony and Ziva, their eyes meeting in a swift glance, both reached out their hands and hooked their pinky fingers around their daughter's.

"We promise, tateleh."

* * *

><p>The rest of their morning could have almost fooled both Tony and Ziva for some kind of normal. Going with the truth, or some variant of it, appeared to have been the right choice for reassuring both of their children of their continuing safety - at least for now. They both knew there were more secrets to share, and probably even more explanations to make up, twist and churn. But that didn't matter at that moment. Because Tali seemed much more herself than she had been the previous night, and because David seemed to have abandoned his routine of shooting them suspicious glances. In turn, however, Ziva could have hardly failed to notice the suspicion conveyed in Tony's eyes whenever their gazes met. She had some explaining to do for what she had told Tali, and soon. With both of the kids in the backseat on their way to the office they didn't get a chance to clear anything up just yet, but Ziva knew Tony wouldn't leave it at that for long.<p>

In spite of the silent tension between the adults, hearing that they were not only going to get a free day with their Uncle Gibbs, but also spend that day at NCIS, had elicited quite the enthusiastic response from their kids. When they arrived at the Navy Yard, Gibbs was already waiting for them at the entrance to the NCIS building. He curtly informed Tony that his report was on his desk before turning to Tali and David. However, neither of them budged an inch from where they were standing next to their parents. Noticing the unsure expressions on their small faces, Gibbs decided to take a step back and allow the little family some privacy.

Ziva and Tony almost simultaneously crouched down in front of their kids. Tony pulled a dollar bill from his pocket and held it out to them. "Dollar for your thoughts?", he said, a smile adorning his face. "Inflation and all."

Ziva couldn't help but mimic his smile. Years ago she might have reprimanded him for making light of the situation, but she had since learned that this was how he coped, this was how Tony dealt with the very non-lightness of a situation. And she had learned to appreciate his ways.

David couldn't suppress a grin as he snatched the dollar from his dad's hand. But he quickly handed it to his sister and his face became serious again. "You're going to be okay, right?", he asked, sharing a pointed look with Tali.

"The bad man's not gonna hurt you?", Tali added in a small voice.

"No, tateleh, the bad man is not going to hurt us", Ziva assured them, alternating her gaze between her children. "We will be very, very careful."

"And we are very, very good at our job. You can ask anybody", Tony added, throwing a hand over his shoulder to indicate his former boss, a smile on his face. "You two just worry about having a great day. Let your Uncle Gibbs take care of you, and your mom and I will take care of each other. Sound like a deal?"

Both David and Tali nodded their heads.

Neither Tony nor Ziva had the slightest idea what they would do the next day, or the day after, or when to allow the kids to go back to school. Never mind that they were silently and continually evading having to deal with Eliana not only being someone's mother, but also two someones' grandmother. No doubt, they were winging it right now, crossing bridges when they came to them.

"Group hug", Tony announced and opened his arms.

Laughing, Tali and David walked into their parents' embrace, grabbing onto whichever part of whichever parent or sibling that was closest to them.

"We love you and are very proud of you", Ziva declared when they pulled apart.

"Love you too", David replied, accompanied by Tali's heartfelt nod.

Eventually, Gibbs stepped back up to them and tore the kids away from their parents. A kid on each hand, his promises of swing sets and visiting the patrons of the Navy Yard slowly faded into the distance. Tony and Ziva watched them leave before they went inside. They rode the elevator in silence, both of them lost in separate trains of thought, pondering the manner in which they had just dealt with a serious threat to their little family. Had they handled it all right? Had they marred their kids for life? Was there any way, as a parent, not to mar one's kids for life, one way or another?

When they entered the bullpen, people were already waiting there for them. Abby and McGee seemed anxious to talk to them, as was Ducky. Eliana, on the other hand, was hovering at the back, her expression unreadable. Ziva felt no desire to read it, anyway. Tony and she merely shared a look and stepped behind their respective desks. Stowing away her things, Ziva found the gun she had handed over to Gibbs the other night at its rightful place in her desk drawer. A small smile flashed across her face.

"How's Tali?", Abby blurted out eventually, unable to hold back any longer. She was standing right in front of Ziva's desk now.

"As okay as she can be, I guess", Tony answered, joining his team in the center of the bullpen.

McGee's eyes were set on Ziva. "What happened? Gibbs just stalked in here this morning, dropped his report on Tony's desk and gave me a piece of paper with a car model and half of a license plate on it to run."

Ziva straightened up, not sure what McGee already knew or what he had passed on to Abby, and just going with the gist of it. "Arik had already gotten to Tali when Gibbs and I arrived."

A small yelp escaped Abby's lips. "Oh God, Ziva…"

"He didn't hurt her or anything", Tony added quickly.

"He practically gave her back to me, without resisting", Ziva continued, her eyes briefly landing on Eliana on the other side of the bullpen. "Gibbs followed him, but he had a getaway car in place."

"Kadeer?"

"Probably."

"They were planning to take Tali all along", Ducky concluded, heaving a labored breath.

"They didn't succeed, that's what counts", Abby held, looking directly at Ziva. "You got there in time."

Ziva didn't answer, crossing her arms in front of her chest and guarding herself against what could have been, what could have happened to her little girl. So, instead, Tony decided to get the explanation that he craved.

"Ziva thinks Eli put Arik up to it", he blurted out.

"You what?"

"She what?"

"I do not, Tony", Ziva insisted, glaring at him. She turned to the others. "Tali said that the man told her he was a friend of Eli's and that he was going to take her to him. We did not want to press her for details, but I am sure he must have shown her something or told her something to make it appear believable for her."

"How can you know that?", Eliana asked softly, looking at Ziva over the small crowd gathered between them.

"Because our daughter doesn't go along with strangers just because she feels like it", Tony countered before Ziva could even utter a word. Eliana acknowledged his pointed reference to her encounter with Tali at the park with a small nod, thinking it best to leave it at that.

"He showed Tali a picture of Arik and I", a voice substituted at once, emerging from somewhere to their left.

They hadn't even heard the premonitory signal of the elevator. Heads turned in unison and gazes fell on the familiar source of that booming voice, that accent, that manner of intonation. A wave of shock and disbelief ripped through the air, eyebrows rising here and mouths gaping there, as the Director of Mossad built himself up to full size before them.

"I would still advise you to be more strict with Tali about not talking to strangers and carelessly going along with them", Eli went on, his voice just as calm and composed as before.

"You!", Ziva roared, shooting out from behind her desk and towards her father. Tony had barely processed Eli's words when he lunged forward and threw his arms around Ziva, holding her back.

"Come on, Ziva", Tony pressed out through gritted teeth, straining to keep her in check. Her expression was positively livid and had caused both Eli and Abby, who had been standing close to them, to take a step back.

"Did you know?", Ziva spat, finally giving in to Tony's grip around her waist, but her anger not faltering. "Did you know they were going to try and take my child?"

"No", Eli denied quickly, "I did not. I protected Tali. I protected you." His eyes, fleetingly, landed on Eliana, his wife, a woman he had not seen in decades, before he turned back to his daughter.

"He touched my daughter, you-", Tony growled in a low voice, his arms around Ziva slacking. "He touched her."

"Arik is your man, yes? He is your mole", Ziva asserted, her eyes burning into her father's. Tony looked at his partner in surprise: So, that was it.

Eli nodded his head. "I trained him. I molded him. He infiltrated Farouk's ranks on my orders before the stakes were even high enough."

"When?", Eliana asked in a frail voice, coming up beside Abby and McGee.

She was staring into Eli's eyes and he was staring back at her now, fully. Ziva, for the first time in over thirty years, was standing in a room with both of her parents, but she had never felt so far away from them than right at that moment. She could feel Tony next to her and she could feel anger; anger because her little girl had been swept up by this mess, a mess originating with her own parents.

"He was my safety net and my insurance, all along", Eli answered, ignoring the look of disappointment on Eliana's face. "An insurance that paid off through the years."

"Do you really believe that he has not become an accomplice after all this time? More than your mole?", Ziva derided, her mouth barely moving to her words.

Eli's eyes narrowed. He was well aware where the disgust in his daughter's eyes was coming from. "It is not the cleanest method, but through the years many lives were saved", he insisted. "And often worse was prevented."

"And he worked this whole Eliana thing from the inside as well. All this time?", Tony cut into the glare between father and daughter.

Eli nodded and walked over to McGee's desk, which had been left unoccupied for the time being, leaning against it. He suspected this would take them a while.

"Adena and Sol", Ziva put in. Her cousin and her husband were easily the second most pressing thoughts on her mind. They had been tortured and killed by the hands of a terrorist splinter group her father had apparently infiltrated a long time ago.

"Arik has been my eyes and ears", Eli explained. "I put Adena and Sol on your mother's mission, yes. They continued to decimate their ranks. They took out known associates. They weakened them, shrinking them down to the small number left of Farouk's heritage today."

"They killed Jared Cooper?"

"Their supplier." Eli nodded. "Sol poisoned him while we were trying to get posts secured and operations in order following the end of the Cold War."

"They killed them", Ziva griped. "You had an officer in place on the inside and you still sacrificed them? Your own niece?"

Eli slightly shook his head. "They were Officers of the Mossad, Ziva. We live with that risk every day."

"They tortured them for answers. They beheaded them", Ziva continued, her voice hardening. "You let them die."

"What is it that you would have had me do?", Eli countered, his arms flying towards his daughter. "Send Arik to their rescue and risk three decades' worth of work? Yes, they died, and I mourn their loss. But two of _us_ died to save countless others."

Ziva gave a sardonic laugh, shaking her head at the very reasoning she had grown accustomed to all her life: duty before family. It had been the knockout argument of her childhood, youth, even well into her adulthood, and it had nestled in her heart for the longest time; knocking out all of her cries, her screams, her imploration. Duty before family. It had never been the other way around; equating them had been out of the question anyway. And this was what had come of it.

"You knew my mother was alive and still you did not tell me", she said softly, feeling Eliana's eyes on her.

Eli released a small batch of breath that he had been holding for exactly that moment. "I did", he confirmed heavily, sinking back against the desk. "I knew because Arik knew. After Niv Peled had uncovered the truth and word got out to Kadeer, Arik contacted me."

"Why didn't you just rattle your magic Mossad wand and get it over with?", Tony cut in, a scowl persisting on his face.

"I had no hope of tracking Eliana down without leading Kadeer right to her. And even if you do not think me capable of recognizing it, but times have changed, Tony", Eli answered slowly, alternating his gaze between his daughter and the man she had chosen to love. "I could not waste the Mossad resources necessary to take care of these personal matters. The only thing I could do was to seize control and protect her."

"So, what did you do?", McGee inquired, curious as to how all that fit with the unraveling of their case.

"I had Arik arrange for communication to be picked up by the U.S. once it became known that Eliana was here, in the States", Eli explained, folding his hands in front of his body. "In an internationally orchestrated effort Mossad had helped disclose the very communication channels that Arik then used to set up transfer and accouterment. What I wanted was for U.S. officials to get involved, not NCIS and not _you_." By the end of his sentence he was looking directly at Ziva.

"The highly restricted account we couldn't crack", Abby realized, "That was you."

Eli nodded. "The Navy man who died-"

"Ian Johnston", Tony substituted quickly. "He had a name."

"Yes. Unforseen and an unfortunate casualty, I am afraid", he offered. "If Arik could have prevented it without risking his cover, I assure you he would have done so."

Ziva shook her head slightly at the last intricacies unfolding. "And Baila Eshel?"

"Baila Eshel was chosen to infiltrate the Mossad", Eli breathed.

"But you knew about that, of course", Tony clarified. "Because you were so much faster and so much cleverer than they were."

"I knew, but I allowed it to happen. I strictly controlled the information that she had access to and I kept her very close to me", Eli confirmed, nodding. "I knew they were planning to kill me, and I knew how. I had a third car in waiting that swapped places with mine."

"So, Baila-"

"Did not operate on my orders", Eli concluded, his voice harder again. "And she paid the price."

"And yesterday?", Ziva inquired eventually, allowing Tony to grab her hand behind their backs and squeeze it.

"I was in hiding all this time, but I tried to protect my granddaughter. You have to believe me that", Eli insisted.

"He had her", Ziva countered. "If Gibbs and I had not gotten there in time, he would have taken her."

"That is why I had Eliana sent here when I did", Eli explained, his hand shooting out to point at his estranged wife, even if he did not look at her. "NCIS was getting too close. I had to buy Arik some time. That you caught Nuri was…unexpected. They had probably planned to take David or Tali, Tali most likely, all along. Arik needed time to keep up appearances, to assure that they would be safe and rescued."

"Are you deaf? He already had our daughter", Tony repeated angrily.

"He would not have hurt her", Eli assured them, and Ziva was almost certain she could see something akin to a plea for their understanding shine in his blazing eyes.

"That is why Arik handed her back to me", Ziva realized, remembering the look in Arik's eyes upon her arrival; he really had been relieved. "He was getting an easier out, because Gibbs and I showed up." Arik could probably now sell a different story to Kadeer, of how she had overpowered him, or of how she had intercepted his kidnapping attempt; that it had been too risky, too careless to go through.

"Arik is on our side", Eli concluded.

* * *

><p>When Gibbs opened the door to Director Vance's office, he found Vance sitting on the opposite end of the big mahogany table at the center of the room, cradling a glass of frail brownish-red liquor in his hand. Beside him, his back momentarily turned towards Gibbs, sat Eli David, his index finger tapping the side of a glass filled with translucent liquid, water probably. A vague smile erupted on Gibbs' face as he turned to snap the door back shut.<p>

Eli's head whipped around and, recognizing his daughter's former boss, got up instantly, a small smile also on his face now. "Agent Gibbs", he greeted, holding out his hand. "I was hoping I would get to see you."

"Eli", Gibbs nodded, shaking his hand. "Finally cared to show up."

"I was just filling Leon in on my part in all of this", Eli explained, offering Gibbs a seat. "I would be happy to start over for you."

"Nah, got my own ears", Gibbs declined, deciding to keep standing.

McGee and Abby had been only too eager to recount all that had happened and all that had been said in the bullpen during his absence when Gibbs had run into them downstairs. He had picked up on chatter concerning Eli David's arrival at the Navy Yard way beforehand anyway.

"So, what brings you here, Gibbs?", Vance asked. Gibbs peered at the director, unblinking, his eyes flickering to Eli for only a second. Vance nodded. "Suit yourself."

Gibbs turned his whole body towards Eli, Ziva's father, fixing him with a stare. "Wanted to be looking into your eyes when you told me."

Eli huffed, a smile still persisting. "Tell you what, Gibbs?"

"Why there was no other way to go 'bout it."

Eli raised his chin and squared his shoulders, his eyes on Gibbs. "I was protecting Arik's identity."

Gibbs snorted. "Covering your own ass."

"I was protecting the identity of an Officer of the Mossad", Eli repeated, his voice matching Gibbs'. "After what happened in Tel Aviv, I had to tread very carefully. I had to implement emergency protocols. I had to keep in check the potential consequences of the explosions. Word could not get out to the wrong people, Gibbs. It would have meant chaos. When I came back up for air, things had already progressed much farther than I had anticipated."

Gibbs nodded. "And Ziva was in it."

"I was trying to-"

"Her family. The kids", he went on, taking a step forward.

"This should not have been an NCIS case", Eli admitted, his voice leveling. "Things would be very different then."

Gibbs shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "Collateral damage, 's all they are?"

"Unfortunate turns", Eli held, shooting down Gibbs' insinuations. "Sad turns, for us all."

"You tell her that", Gibbs demanded, holding Eli's stare. "She needs to hear that."

Eli's mouth opened, but before another word could have been uttered, another stare relayed, another look shared, however, the door was opened once again and in stepped Ziva and Tony.

"Agents DiNozzo and David", Vance greeted them, motioning for them to close the door. "We have a special mission for you."

Ziva, disregarding Vance's words for a moment, turned to look at Gibbs. "Where are the kids?"

"Ducky and Palmer are on them", Gibbs answered lightly. "You know Palmer."

Ziva offered him a small smile before she returned her attention to the Director, _her_ Director. Her face became serious again, mimicking Tony's, as they awaited their orders.

"This is a joint operation between NCIS and Mossad. So, you will take over protection detail for Director David", Vance instructed.

Tony cleared his throat. "Protection for doing what exactly, Director?"

"I am meeting Arik tonight", Eli explained, taking a stand in front of them. "I will order him to finish the job."

"Kill Kadeer."

"Exactly."

Both Tony and Ziva nodded their heads. Then Tony glanced at Gibbs, his expression visibly softening. "We called their schools and reported both of them sick", he said.

Gibbs nodded his head, understanding. "I'll take them home with me."

"Then I will set my officers up as protection at your house", Eli put in, eyeing Gibbs over the rim of his glasses. Gibbs acknowledged Eli's instinct to one-up him as the kids' grandfather with a crooked smile and a nod.

Tony and Ziva shared a look before they simply chose to leave. They had barely turned the corner onto the walkway, however, when Eli's voice called them back. He must have followed them.

"Ziva, may I get a moment to talk to you?", he requested, looking at her.

Tony made it a point to stand close to Ziva when he said, "I'll be downstairs."

Ziva nodded and took a few steps towards Eli. She looked at her father expectantly, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Talk."

Eli straightened up and slowly took in a breath. "Ziva, believe me that all that I did was done to protect you and my grandchildren."

Ziva stared into his eyes, her eyelids tugged deeply over her own. She waited for a moment with her answer, watching him study her, watching him, for once, wait for her to react. "I do believe you", she admitted finally.

Eli threw his head back. "You do?"

"What I know is that I was scared to death when I thought my children were in danger", she clarified, her voice soft. "And I am grateful that I got my daughter back without harm done to her. If it is your part in this that made that happen, then for that I am grateful to you. I could not care less how you did it."

A small smile appeared on Eli's face, but it soon vanished again when Ziva's hardened expression did not shift. "What is it then?"

"You knew she was alive", she hissed. "You knew for what? Years? And you did not tell me."

"Ziva, I could not-"

"I was in Haifa with my family. You still did not say a word."

"I was suspicious at first, I was. I suspected she might do something drastic to protect you. I did look for her at first", he insisted. "But your mother was good. She had been a brilliant officer, almost as good as you."

Ziva scoffed.

"I know you, Ziva", Eli defended, taking a step towards her. "You would not have stopped before you had found her. The fewer people knew, the safer she was. I needed to protect her. I needed to stay in control."

Ziva shook her head, her eyes leaving his for a moment. "You gave the pictures to me. You even sent her albums."

"You are not the only one hurting", he stated, a sad smile tugging on his lips. "I might not have the luxury to show it, but you are not the only one who was betrayed."

"No, she betrayed us all", Ziva said. "But I am not at fault."

"No, you are not. We are", he admitted, reaching out a hand and, when she didn't flinch away, placed it on her upper arm. "I was hot-headed, narrow-minded, driven. The mistakes that I made along the way."

Ziva huffed. "Mistakes that are echoing through time and putting my family in danger now."

"I would never let anything or anybody hurt your children", Eli declared.

"You hurt me", Ziva countered.

She could have wrapped her arms tighter around herself, she could have thrown off his touch, she could have taken a step back. But she did neither. Ziva remained unmoving, not for a second distracting from the look in her eyes; a look she had never before allowed herself to gain looking at her own father. Eli; all her life he was not supposed to see the hurt. Making him proud had meant to bury the hurt, shut herself down, do as told. That was over. She was in charge of her own choices now, her own pain.

"By keeping me in the dark", Ziva went on evenly. "Not just about my mother, but because you made it that I could think I had lost you as well."

Eli shook his head, retracting his hand from her arm. "I knew you could take it."

"I have changed. Can you not see that?", Ziva asked, her eyes filling with anger once again. "_We_ should have changed."

"I taught you not to believe with your heart. Without confirmation, I was not dead", he insisted, his eyes narrowing. "You must have known."

Ziva scoffed. "That is not the point."

"No", he confirmed, a long, quiet sigh leaving his lips. "Your Agent Gibbs has been looking for me. Your mother has sent for me. But it is you who I came here for. I came here to explain myself to _you_."

Ziva stared into his eyes and couldn't help it. He was her father, for better or worse, he was. And she had been making an honest effort, as had he, to put their past behind them. Most of the mistakes that she could fault him for were in the past, a past for which he had unceasingly sought redemption in the last couple of years. They were big mistakes, and she had every right to let her forgiveness be hard to come by. She had every right never to forgive him and his past at all, really, but in light of the life she now lived she had at least committed herself to appreciating his present efforts.

"You have explained enough to me for one day", Ziva concluded and, once again, resigned herself to focusing on the small steps she could take and not the big leaps she was still unable to fathom. "But there are others who need to hear your explanations."

Instead of responding to Eli's look of confusion, Ziva led him downstairs and into the bullpen, where Tony was waiting for them. She asked her partner to call Palmer and tell him to bring the kids upstairs to see their grandfather, allowing herself for a moment to enjoy the sincere smile that erupted on Eli's face upon hearing her say that. Tony's forehead creased with a deep frown, but he still made the call.

"You will explain to them what happened at Tali's school", Ziva said eventually, looking at Eli. "You will stick to the version of the story where you knew all about it beforehand and Arik was only following your orders."

"And you'll be reassuring as hell", Tony added, his eyes narrowed.

Eli nodded in understanding mere seconds before the elevator announced itself with a _ding_. The moment the kids' eyes fell on him standing there the squadroom filled with enthusiastic screams of _'Saba Eli'_. Before long, Eli had retreated to a chair and lifted Tali onto his lap, with David standing in front of him, both kids coming at him with an onslaught of question about Haifa, the beach, Israel, his flight and how long he would be staying this time.

"Not very long, I am afraid", Eli replied. "I am here for work and work also demands I go back to Israel soon."

"So, that's why you sent the man to get Tali for you?", David inquired, looking on probingly.

Eli raised his eyes only briefly to meet Tony's and Ziva's expectant gazes and offered his grandson a small nod. "I had just arrived and I wanted you to come see me. So, I sent my friend Arik to get you. I knew he would keep you safe", he explained with the ease and panache that was expected of him. He tilted his head to the side and looked at Tali. "He showed you a picture of him and me, yes?"

Tali nodded heartily. "That's how I know he's your friend."

"Very well. But you still have to be very careful around strangers, Talia, even if they show you pictures or tell you stories about the people you know", Eli continued, deciding to throw in a few of his own thoughts on the matter and disregarding Tony's obvious glare. "There is still a very bad and evil man out there. Your mother and father have told you about him, yes?"

Both Tali and David nodded dutifully. "But they'll catch him soon. They promised. And they're good", David countered, turning around to look at his parents approvingly. Tony and Ziva offered him small, reassuring smiles.

"But why'd mommy yell at your friend?", Tali asked suddenly, looking between Eli and Ziva.

Eli looked up at his daughter, unaware of those details. Ziva recognized his hesitation and quickly jumped in. "We were just checking up on the two of you and your grandfather had not told me about his friend before."

Eli skillfully went along with it, nodding. "You see, I am getting old", he said, sighing slightly for his granddaughter's sake. "I simply forgot."

"You thought his friend was a bad guy?", David concluded.

Ziva nodded. "But thankfully, he was not. He was a friend. He helped protecting you. And it was just a misunderstanding."

"Tell your friend thanks for me", Tali instructed, looking up at Eli with a big smile.

Eli returned her smile. "I shall do that."

* * *

><p>Did they enjoy elaborating whole webs and channel systems of lies to their children? In instances that didn't directly involve presents and surprises, it certainly wasn't their favorite part of parenting. But, as it was, lying kind of was a substantial part of parenting. And then there was the issue of their kids' safety and well-being. They had had little time to think it through, little time to plug all the obvious plot holes, but they also felt as through there was little room for alternatives. Ziva, especially, had, and without thinking twice about it, gradually adopted Tony's vantage point: that of an unsafe world where they would fight and promise to keep their children safe. However, that didn't mean letting go of deep-seated beliefs came easy to her. She refused to fully let go of them either; and she refused to have them fully compromised. But right now, with menace and threats looming, she had little control over anything but fighting to make their world safer again, and fighting to keep them safe along the way.<p>

When the time neared at which Eli had arranged to meet Arik, Tali and David were informed of their sleepover at their Uncle Gibbs'. A full sleepover this time, they assured them. That, coupled with saying goodbye to Eli, quickly led to Ziva and Tony making faraway promises of sleepovers at Eli's place in Tel Aviv or Haifa or Israel in general. Before long, they were giving Gibbs one of their keys to the apartment so that he could get the kids' stuff and they were saying their elaborate goodnights.

Whispering into her ear, David made Ziva promise once more that they would be careful and not get hurt by the bad man. Ziva doubly assured him, knowing fully well how much her eight-year-old tended to worry whenever both of his parents had to stay the night at work. She just hoped that, whenever work did take precedence, trying to explain and holding on particularly long made her a better parent than her own father had been.

After all the others had left, Ziva and Tony led Eli down to the evidence garage, where a car was waiting for them. While Tony took a seat behind the steering wheel, Ziva held the door to the back seat open for her father.

"Todah, Abba", Ziva mumbled softly, when Eli stepped around her to climb in. He smiled at her and nodded, before getting into the car.

They drove halfway across the city per Eli's instructions and eventually came to a halt somewhere in the middle of a maze of small back alleys. Eli instructed them to remain in the car while he would go and meet Arik. Ziva briefly argued with him about them being his protection detail and not Mossad Officers he could boss around. No less willfully, however, Eli then explained that Arik was extremely cautious and would not turn up at all if he made them beforehand. So they complied. They watched as Eli set out straight ahead and took a turn to the right into another alley. They stayed put for a while, windows open, just listening for anything suspicious, their eyes roaming the perimeter. Minutes trickled by. They glanced at each other, asking silent questions. More minutes went by. No sound was to be heard. They looked at each other again, but this time they simultaneously pushed open the doors on either side and got out of the car.

They settled their hands on their guns and crept along the alley, following the track Eli had taken almost half an hour before. A figure rounded the corner, stalking towards them. They were quick, drawing their guns and training them on the man, but soon slipped them back into their holsters when it was only Eli, returning. He was carrying a box of sorts, an indiscernible expression on his face.

"What is it?", Ziva inquired.

Eli, however, ignored her question and passed them by, walking back to their car. Tony looked at Ziva questioningly, but she could only shrug her shoulders. They could do nothing but follow him. Arriving at the car, Eli nodded towards the trunk and Tony opened it for him. They watched him place the box inside, diligently, before taking a step back. He motioned for them to take a look. Once again Tony and Ziva shared a glance, but reached out nonetheless, pulling back the lid.

What they uncovered caused Tony to gag. "Good God…"

Ziva also took a step back, turning her head away. She searched for her father's eyes in the darkness. "Abba?"

Eli nodded. "Arik's head."

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: Intermezzo time. January 2011.<em>


	31. While You Were There

_**Recap:** This is the story of two people who were put in the same place at the same time and still were universes apart. This is the story of two people who became, sometimes painfully, important to each other. This is the story of two people who watched each other change and grow from the sidelines. This is the story of two people who pushed each other away, because pulling was not an option. This is the story of a comeback. This is the story of two people who rewrote their own history, wrote it again and wrote it differently. This is the story of two people who acknowledged how important they were to each other. This is the story of two people who helped each other pull. This is the story of small steps and even smaller gestures. This is the story of two people who let each other go, knowing there was no way not to follow. And this chapter is a follow-up to all that kind of story._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 31 Intermezzo - Part 5<br>**_or: While You Were There_

**January 2011**

As he sat there in the confined space that was the back room of an old musty apartment, Tony could hardly believe that this was how he was introducing himself to a new year - a year, he had promised himself, where everything would change. However, despite his brilliant promises to the future, his present had nothing to offer but murky dampness and freezing cold. Gibbs was sitting beside him, both staring, alternately, out of the window to their left and at a small screen to their right. The screen was connected to a street-side camera device, catching the alley beneath their window from the opposite angle. They were waiting.

They had spent the better part of their December and the remainder of their Christmas holidays going after a serial killer that had been targeting the very women who came to him as their trusted drug supplier. One of those women had been a Marine PFC, which had in turn gotten NCIS involved. After he had struck again, evidence had finally pointed them into a general direction; general enough to initiate an undercover op that involved putting Ziva up as his potential next victim. What they needed now was for the perp to meet up with Ziva at the arranged time and place, so she could get him to sell her the specific synthetic blend that had become his trademark. He only sold them in small, one-go packages before making his move on his victims. Then they had him.

"Boss", Tony alerted Gibbs, pointing at the screen.

Their most likely suspect was walking into the frame, coming from the main street onto the alley, where Ziva, having gotten her cue, was already waiting for him. They watched through the window and on screen as they started talking. Tony was particularly attuned to the changes in Ziva's behavior as she was adopting her undercover persona. She was heavily flirting with the guy, breaking big smiles, tossing big gestures, her facial muscles working overtime. She was not the woman that now frequently spent her afternoons at his apartment, or fell asleep on the couch beside him, or sat with him in front of pitch-black TV screens, just talking, or cooked in the kitchen alongside him. That woman down there wasn't his; and Ziva was.

Then it struck him. "Something's off, boss", he said, moving closer to the screen to get a better look.

"That so, DiNozzo?", Gibbs grumbled, turning to look out of the window.

"He's not checking her out", Tony mused, his eyes glued to the perp talking to Ziva and his increasingly off-setting demeanor. Tony cocked his head to the side, trying to get a different angle on the guy. But no, something was definitely wrong.

Gibbs glared at him. "So what?"

"Will you look at her?", Tony yelped, his hand shooting towards the window and into Ziva's general direction.

She was wearing high heels, mesh pantyhose, a skirt so short and a cleavage so bold he had a hard time holding himself back from reacting inappropriately. Gibbs, mind, didn't yet know that he and Ziva were something of an item now, and that they had been something of an item for a few months now. He would have never said it to her face, of course, but in his mind Tony had been dubbing her his _'girlfriend' _time and time again; he really had. And sometimes that even sounded like too small a word already.

"That's the whole purpose of that get-up", Tony shot back in response to Gibbs' scowl.

"So what?"

"He made us."

By the time those words had tumbled out of Tony's mouth, he was already scrambling up. He threw off his coat and jacket, slipped off his belt and tugged his shirt out of his pants. All the while he kept treading on one foot with the other, until he had rendered both of his boots successfully dirty and covered in dust. Then he grabbed the cup filled with cold black coffee and sprinkled his shirt with it. Finally, he loosely looped his scarf around his neck, tousling his hair in the process, grateful he had been too tired to shave that morning.

"What d'you think you're doing, DiNozzo?", Gibbs exclaimed, his scowl having gotten bigger with each of Tony's movements.

"Improvising", Tony retorted. "Get my eleven, boss."

Without another word he darted out of the door, leaving Gibbs momentarily stunned. Tony sprinted down the steps and to the entrance of the apartment building they were in, grabbing a black garbage bag out of a dumpster on his way outside. He rounded two corners and eventually arrived at the very alley the perp had come from. Ziva noticed him instantly as he came up behind him, trying not to see Tony, but acting sufficiently surprised at whoever he was trying to be.

Tony started slurring, swaying, stumbling along the way, putting on the best impromptu performance of a homeless/drunk guy he could muster. The perp was momentarily thrown off and flinched back in obvious disgust while Tony moved to get between him and Ziva. It was a matter of seconds. Their eyes fixed on his face, they watched as the perp's expression contorted in ever-growing suspicion. The moment Tony's eyes caught McGee and Gibbs approaching the alley from the left, guns at the ready, he seized Ziva by the shoulders.

They could hear the fleeting scratch and click of the perp drawing and cocking his gun and in just as fleetingly visceral a reaction Tony pushed Ziva to the ground, throwing his body on top of hers as McGee and Gibbs identified themselves as NCIS, yelling through the dimness of the moment, and three shots blared above their heads. A moment later they glanced up to see the perp toppling to the ground, blood oozing from a wound on his shoulder. McGee quickly hurried over, yanked him up and handcuffed him. With a small nod from Gibbs he led him back through the alley and to the car that was waiting around the corner.

Gibbs looked down at Ziva and Tony. They were still lying on the ground, Tony's body still covering most of Ziva's. "You okay?", he asked, looking at her.

Ziva nodded curtly. "I believe so."

Gibbs turned to Tony. "Get the rest of your stuff. You two can take a cab", he growled. "And if you pull something like that again, I'll have your ass."

Tony peeked up in time to see a vague smile flash across his boss' face and nodded before Gibbs turned to leave, following McGee. Tony quickly hoisted himself up into a push-up position, now hovering above Ziva, and realizing that he had just about had more bodily contact with her than she had allowed him, and he had allowed himself, since Somalia. Still, he couldn't help but smile at her as she lay there, an impatient scowl slowly etching itself onto her face.

"And there I always pegged you for the straddle-on-top kinda girl", he quipped, grateful that he could finally make these jokes and elicit a small smile from her, not remind her of the pain that was the past they were still working through.

"If you do not move soon, I am quite ready to show you", she retorted, her eyes narrowing playfully as her hands came to rest on his lower arms.

He knew she was serious, too, but he couldn't yet leave that moment. It was strange, but it was strangely intimate. Alone, right here, the rush of adrenaline still pumping through their veins and yet waning, calming them. And there she was, her beauty not dimmed in his eyes by the fact they were lying in the dirt and fluids of a back alley. He remembered the feeling of pure, undiluted dread that had savaged his innards only minutes before, when the threat of that perp hurting Ziva in front of his very eyes had been all but imminent.

Tony took a deep breath, a smile spreading on his face. "I love you, Ziva David."

Ziva stared at him, their eyes moving in sync, just stared. Her mouth twitched, creating dimples on her cheeks that spoke of more but didn't speak at all. Slowly his smile faded, and she still kept staring. Then, with a sudden jolt, she rolled herself to the side and, urging him to scramble upright with her grip on his arms tightening, pushed herself up into a standing position. Their eyes met only for a second before she forced her head away and walked off into the direction of the apartment building. Tony stood there for a few more heartbeats, clothes dirty, wet and torn, looking after her. He could see that her head was bowed all the way until she had rounded the corner.

In a daze he had darted up the stairs to get his stuff. Ziva was already waiting for him with a cab down in the street. They didn't talk on the way to the Navy Yard, didn't even look at each other. Back at NCIS Ziva instantly went to the shower rooms and Tony only waited until McGee had left the bullpen to follow her. He would never again make the mistake of just letting her go and leaving things unsaid. He would never again let her be the one waiting.

When he arrived at the subfloor he lingered in the hallway for a while. He had no idea what exactly had happened to Ziva in that Somali torture chamber. He had no idea and he was terrified of asking her. But they weren't nearly there anyway. She had only just started to open up to him, and he had only just started to reciprocate. What they had now was frail and steadfast at the same time, and he had no intention of jeopardizing that. Saying the magical three words had been a gamble on the future that he was catching himself dream up more and more these days. But he couldn't have held back any longer.

He had known for a while. He had been feeling it for a while. When she had broken down following the rift with Eli, he had felt something itch around his heart. When she had been there for him during his thing with Brenda Bittner, he had almost been certain. When she had invited him to the Synagogue during the Christmas holidays, holidays they had practically not spent a second of separated; that's when he had known. He had known for weeks now. Maybe he had felt it longer, but he knew now.

Finally, he took a deep breath, bracing himself, catching himself, and stepped into the shower rooms. He noticed the spare clothes she had laid out for herself, so much more Ziva than the undercover get-up had been. He couldn't help but smile. He briefly checked for other occupants before he leaned against the small wall separating a free stall from Ziva's.

"Ziva", he called softly. "Don't worry, I won't come in."

He added the last part quickly. Yes, he had no idea what exactly had happened to her in Somalia, but he had eyes and those eyes usually spent a lot of time studying Ziva. There was no way he would initiate anything physical. If she felt safe enough with him, she would. Sex wasn't why he was in this relationship, or whatever it was that they had.

Ziva didn't answer, but she turned off the gush of water. Silence engulfed them now. He could hear her shift around, probably leaning against the wall behind her.

"I meant what I said", he started, straightening up a little to assure himself of what he was going to say next. "I love you."

Again, Ziva remained still and silent, but he hadn't expected anything else. He took a moment to listen to her breathe.

"I've known for a while, I guess. But I took the time to realize what that was, what it meant", he continued. "So, I don't want you to feel pressured, okay? This is not supposed to scare you. When you're ready, you're ready. I'll wait. I'll stay and I'll wait."

He stood still for a moment longer, giving her the chance to say anything, if she chose to say anything at all. When nothing came, he turned around and left again. He wasn't sure if he had just totally blown it or if they were okay. He went back upstairs and into the squadroom, but felt unable to keep still on his chair. He had to keep himself moving, making trips to the vending machines, the copy room, the break room, rummaging through the file cabinets, delivering notes. It was only when Gibbs returned that Tony was made awkwardly aware of the fact he was still wearing the clothes of his homeless-guy masquerade. Grateful for something to do, Tony tugged some spare clothes from his desk drawer and left to take a shower himself.

When the doors of the elevator opened, however, it was Ziva standing there with a bag of dirty clothes and a pensive look on her face. He didn't budge. For a second he thought she would slap him or, even worse, breeze past him without saying a word. But she did neither of those things.

She just stepped out into the squadroom, rolled her eyes up at him and offered him a coy smile. "Thank you", she said slowly, "For intervening when you did."

Tony tried to process her words and return her smile at the same time; a task that came unnaturally difficult to him. But he got it. As he watched her stalk back into the bullpen, he knew she had heard him, and understood what he was trying to tell her.

* * *

><p>Following that moment in front of the elevators more than two weeks had gone by and Ziva had still not uttered a word regarding his declaration of love. Tony had no intention of taking it back, of course, and he had promised to grant her all the time that she needed, but he couldn't help but feel ever more apprehensive. He wasn't expecting her to say <em>'I love you'<em> back, he really wasn't. He didn't need three words, he just needed _some_ word, _something_ to assure him that she might feel the same way about him, even if it was in a not-so-near future. He didn't want to withdraw either, because he knew he needed to show her that he would not leave, that he would stay. But looking at her was getting very hard these days.

Ziva behaved no differently. She would be professional and down-to-business at work, but still steal the odd glance at him across the bullpen, or graze his hand on the way to the elevator, or give him a rare and sincere smile when no one else was looking. They still held their twice-weekly movie nights and she would fall asleep on his couch, and he would wake her so she could relocate to his bedroom while he took the couch for the night. They spent their weekends together and she had finally surprised him with the Israeli holiday dish she had promised him even before their most recent case. Everything was normal, perfect even. Except that he felt awful inside, and guilty because he was making unaddressed demands and was having irrational expectations that were unfair to Ziva and to the emotional caveats that she had laid done well before they had entered into this; caveats that he had readily agreed to.

It was January 18th when Tony called her in the afternoon as he did on most afternoons now, if she hadn't already called him by then. They talked for some time, but he could feel that she was distracted and far away. They agreed on dinner later that evening, but Tony couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. Something was bugging him, and greatly. For an hour he kept pacing back and fro in his apartment, pondering moments and words and decisions. He held his keys in hand twice, but turned around before ever opening the front door of his apartment. Eventually, he settled down on his couch and turned on the TV, looking to his favorite past time to take his mind off of his crazy ways. But the second his eyes landed on the news flickering across the screen, he understood.

Without thinking twice about it he grabbed his keys and rushed out of his apartment, knowing exactly where he had to go. Half an hour later he was standing in front of Ziva's door. They had exchanged spare keys months ago and he was thankful for it. He slipped his key into the lock and stepped inside. True to what he had expected, Ziva was sitting on the couch to his right, the TV running, the newscaster in the small frame on the bottom right speaking in something Tony could only guess was Arabic.

Tony went over to her. "Ziva?"

Ziva's head whipped around. Her muscles clenched only for a second until her eyes fell on him and she visibly relaxed. "Tony. What are you doing here?"

"I needed to come see you", he said simply, his shoulders heaving in a shrug. "That okay?"

Ziva unconsciously lifted her arm to the backrest of the couch, as if a part of her wanted to reach out to him, or touch him despite the physical distance between them. A small smile curled on her lips. "You should not need to ask that", she answered quietly.

Tony didn't say anything in return, but he well recognized the gravity of her words. He rounded the couch and sat down on the small coffee table opposite her. Their knees touched, but she did not move away. He stared into her eyes for a while as she stared back at him. But he could still see her steal glances at the TV now running on mute behind him.

"You're watching news about Israel", he stated simply.

"Yes", she drew out slowly.

He held the styrofoam cup out to her that he had bought on the way here. She took it, her eyes still burning with questions. "Whenever you do, you always get this intense expression on your face", he continued softly, his gaze fixed on her. "Almost as if you're trying to make out places and faces of someone you might know."

Her eyes remained in his. The ease of his words, true to the core of her being, slowly trickled into her subconscious. She wanted to say something. She wanted him to know something; something she had known for a while too, but had been afraid to say. Because it was dangerous. Because it was close, very close, and coming close, letting things and people close, scared her to death. So, instead, she proceeded to open the lid of the cup Tony had handed her. She looked inside, the familiar scent of the brownish liquid filling her nostrils.

Tony smiled, appreciating the serene calm it brought to her features. "Green tea with milk always relaxes you."

Ziva looked up at him. She had to let go. Scared, yes; but truly loved.

"I love you too, Tony."


	32. Marching On

**Recap:** While Tony and Ziva struggled to deal with the aftermath of their daughter's almost-kidnapping, Eli David's return put a spin on the entire situation, unveiling Arik Nadiv's true affiliation as that of a Mossad Officer having infiltrated Kadeer Haswari's ranks. Just when a clean break seemed within reach...

***...***

_They reached out, pulling back the lid._

_What they uncovered caused Tony to gag. "Good God…"_

_Ziva took a step back, turning her head away. She searched for her father's eyes in the darkness. "Abba?"_

_Eli nodded. "Arik's head."_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 32 Marching On <strong>

**Thursday, April 8****th**** 2021**

After the initial shock had ebbed away, Tony and Ziva had canvassed the alley where Eli had stumbled across the box harboring Arik's head and had indeed found the rest of Arik's body, discarded in a dumpster like trash. They had called in local LEOs to secure the area while returning to NCIS to exchange their car with the MCRT truck in order to process the scene. Despite Ziva's urging Eli had insisted on coming along, back to the scene, where he had patiently watched from afar and waited for them to finish. Ziva had joined him once to repeat her suggestion that he let one of the police officers take him back to the Navy Yard, but Eli had vehemently refused.

It had taken hours. The sun was coming on when they had finally decided to call McGee and Palmer, not wanting to rouse either one of their friends from sleep before it hadn't been absolutely necessary; too personal, too strangely personal, did it feel for both Tony and Ziva. Palmer had soon arrived to escort Arik's remains back to NCIS for an autopsy, while McGee had promised to start cataloguing the evidence the moment they had returned to the office.

When Ziva stepped into autopsy around six thirty that morning, she found Palmer working on Arik, and Eli sitting at Ducky's desk, a mug filled with tea resting close to his hand, but glaringly untouched. Ziva decided to go to Palmer first and deal with her father later.

"I offered him something stronger", Palmer blurted out the second Ziva came to stand in front of him, nodding towards Eli's mug. "Dr. Mallard always kept a bottle of Scotch around."

Ziva simply shook her head. "He does not usually drink."

Palmer scowled. "But this is not _'usually'_."

"I am afraid it is", Ziva said.

Her eyes settled on Arik's ravaged corpse on the stretcher between them, his head separated from his body. Memories surged in her, memories of her sister. Ziva shook her head, trying to force the memories from her mind. Instead, she bowed down a little to get a better look at the face of the man who had given back her daughter without harming her, without endangering her, without a fight. _'Take her'_, it was all that she had ever heard him say.

"He was killed with a single round to the neck, shot from behind", Palmer started to explain as he indicated tear marks on the flesh on the severed head and on the part of the neck still attached to the rest of the body.

"He was executed?", Ziva asked, picking up on the bullet trajectory he was signifying.

"Yes, as far as I can say at this point. He died instantly. The severing of the head occurred post mortem", Palmer concluded. "Tony will get my full report in a few hours."

Ziva nodded. "Thank you, Jimmy."

He straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Will anybody be claiming the body when I release it?"

"I will", Eli declared from behind them.

Ziva offered Palmer a last smile before turning around and walking over to her father. "Come, Abba", she said, slipping an arm under his and helping him up.

Together they stepped through the double doors, where Ziva let go of her father and instead moved to get a better look at him. His eyes were framed by dark circles and deep bags, but seeing as neither one of them had slept that night, she didn't assume she would herself look any different. But she could see lines on his face that she had not seen before, or had not cared to notice.

Eli's eyes narrowed at the way Ziva was scrutinizing his face. "I am getting old", he remarked.

"Who was Arik to you?", Ziva asked offhandedly.

Eli sighed and straightened up a little. "A loyal friend."

Ziva rolled her eyes, tilting her head to the side. "Abba."

"I trained him. I put him with Farouk's people", he said, glancing at the body through the double doors. "He was there for a long time."

"Like Hadar", Ziva offered, remembering her father's trusted right-hand man who had died on U.S. soil during a protection detail for Eli involving NCIS ten years ago.

"Amid was part of the same unit, different operational area."

"And both met the same fate."

Eli nodded, his head feeling heavy as he did. "As I said, a loyal friend."

Ziva took a deep breath, familiar with the loss that tended to come with the loyalty of friends in their line of profession. She folded her hands in front of her body. "I actually came down here to tell you that Director Vance just arrived", she said. "He is offering you to use his means to make calls over a secure line to Israel."

He nodded again, straightening his jacket. "Alright then."

Together they stepped into the elevator.

* * *

><p>"Maybe I should just shower under a stream of coffee", Tony lamented, leaning against the wall of his stall down in the shower rooms and allowing the water to rush over his exhausted body.<p>

Ziva chuckled slightly in the stall next to his, relating intimately to that feeling. It had been quite a while since they had pulled an all-nighter and, she had to admit, they had come easier to her in her 20s. She could hear Tony moan and groan from the other side and smiled. She turned off the water and stepped out. At seven o'clock in the morning she was certain no one would be there except them, and no one would barge in on them. She stepped around the curtain and into Tony's stall, enjoying the positively surprised expression on his face that greeted her.

She stretched a little and caught his lips, allowing the stream of water to trickle down on them both. He smiled against her lips and pulled her closer. They were both far too exhausted for more and eventually just held on to each other, reveling in the quietness and obscure safeness of that moment together. They cleaned away the remnants of a night full of grueling death and did so right by each other's side. When they stepped back out and got dressed in some of their spare clothes, life was slowly coming back to them.

"We won't let the kids go to school tomorrow either, will we?", Tony asked, becoming aware of their children's current whereabouts through his reflection in the mirror.

Ziva shook her head. "I would rather they stay home again."

"So, Gibbs?"

Gibbs wasn't only the first choice because he was the only one who guaranteed both Tony and Ziva peace of mind. They trusted Gibbs, more than they would ever trust anyone else, with their greatest treasures; without question. Gibbs was Gibbs, and on top of that he was great with Tali and David. However, his retirement had also conveniently coincided with Sarah, the kids' full-time nanny, finishing her degree and branching out into a world beyond babysitting. She still put in a few afternoons here and there, but she wasn't as on-hand anymore as their hours occasionally warranted. Gibbs had mostly made up for that gap whenever Tony and Ziva were unable to time their schedules accordingly.

"We cannot make Gibbs babysit all the time", Ziva cautioned, tugging a shirt over her head.

"I know", he said, snapping his belt buckle shut. "But Sarah's out. I mean, we could use comp time. Or you can. No way I'd get it approved during an active case."

Ziva nodded vaguely, turning to inspect her face in the mirror before proceeding to do her hair. "We do not have a choice, do we? McGee and Abby are working as well. And I do not want to burden Ducky with them-"

"Especially when our little princess is all hyped up on no real outlet", Tony cracked.

He made his voice sound light, but it was true. When the end of a school year neared, it was Tali that made them soon wish for it to start again. Not because they didn't relish the long mornings with the kids at home, the trips, the games, their laughter and stamina. It was just that Tali's stamina was a force to be reckoned with, and preschool, or soon school in general, at least provided a routine outlet. After being cooped up inside for two days with little else to do than climb the walls, they judiciously feared, it would have been too much for Ducky to handle on his own.

A smile had tugged on Ziva's lips at the thought of her little girl, but her eyes quickly darkened. Tony noticed the shadows and stepped closer to her. "Is she alright, Tony? Or have we allowed her to be dragged into this?", she asked quietly, gazing up at him.

Tony shook his head. "I'm the first to admit I was scared as hell", he professed, the words easily rolling off his lips. "But I really think we handled it as well as we could."

"You should have seen her face, Tony. When I tried to take off her jacket at the door, when I tried to let go", Ziva went on, leaning against the sink. "She was terrified."

"She's five. She's a little girl. She was confused", Tony countered. "And she went to her mommy to make it better. Because that's what we're here for. And we were there for her. Even Eli, the old rhino."

His last sentence elicited a grin to spread on Ziva's face. Tony seized that break of tension and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her close. "Children are resilient, aren't they?", she mused, looking into his eyes.

Tony nodded, leaning down for a kiss. "Much more than we are."

* * *

><p>Tali's eyes flickered open. The room was still dark, only a small ray of light was creeping in through a crack beneath the shades. She blinked. Once. Twice. Outlines and edges started taking shape. For a moment panic budded within her, unable to recognize the familiar lines of her room, and the soft glimmer from her fairy lamp. Then she realized, with a snap to her left and a snap to her right, that they were at their Uncle Gibbs' place. She and Deed. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and moved her whole body to the left. Yes, Deed was still there, sleeping in his bed, his bed at Uncle Gibbs'. Memories of the previous day caught up with her. Her parents were at work. Their Uncle Gibbs was taking care of them. And Saba Eli was here, but not for long. She sighed.<p>

Flinging her little legs over the side of the bed, she dropped herself to the floor and quickly took the remaining steps to her big brother's bed. She climbed on, kneeling on the mattress and looking at him, studying him. David didn't move. David never moved. She propped her hands up beside him and leaned forward.

"Deed", she whispered, her face now only inches from his. "Deed."

David's eyes fluttered open and his brows furrowed almost simultaneously. "Tali, what are you doing?", he mumbled, slipping a hand between his and his little sister's face.

"I can't sleep", she stated, pushing herself back to sit on her heels.

"It's still dark. It's early. Just try", he reasoned, blinking at her.

"Can we call mommy and daddy already?", she asked, still trying to keep her voice low and quiet.

"No, it's still early", he repeated, sighing now that he was fully conscious. "We call them at breakfast."

Tali shrugged. "Then let's go eat breakfast."

"Tali, it's too early. You gotta get back to bed", David grumbled.

"But I can't."

David's groan escaped as an exasperated breath. "Go to Uncle Gibbs."

"He's not sleeping anymore", Tali declared. "Listen."

They fell silent for a moment and David concentrated on the noises in the house and really, Tali was right. They could hear soft thuds and scratching; noises they were all too familiar with. Those were the sounds of their Uncle Gibbs working down in the basement on the surprise project he had made them swear not to talk about, especially to their parents.

David nodded. "Just try by yourself then."

"I wanna sleep home with mommy and daddy again", she said, her voice bordering on a whine.

"Me too, but they gotta work now. 'Cause of the bad man, remember?"

Tali nodded her head slowly, but still sighed. "Can't he go somewhere else? So mommy and daddy don't hafta work 'cause of him?"

David shrugged. "I don't know. It's probably 'cause mom and dad are good at catching him."

"And they have lotsa help, too", Tali insisted. "Like Saba Eli's friend."

"Yeah, but they didn't need any help." David nudged his shoulders against the mattress in a faint shrug. "Mom didn't even know he was a friend."

Tali took a deep breath as her eyes dropped to the pajamas that were still a little too big for her, and her hands started kneading the soft surplus fabric. "He shoulda asked Uncle Gibbs to get me, so mommy didn't hafta yell."

David tilted his head to the side. "You were scared, weren't you?"

She rolled her head around on her shoulders a few times, not really looking at her brother. "I didn't know what was going on."

David nodded vaguely and studied his little sister's face for a while, with her lips pressed into a thin line, playing with her pajamas. "Will you go back to sleep if you can stay here?", he asked eventually, holding up his blanket.

A smile erupted on Tali's face and she nodded her head, already proceeding to slide beneath the covers beside her big brother. "They'll be okay, right? Mommy and daddy?"

David inclined his head to look at his little sister, whose wide auburn eyes were rolled up at him. Tali hadn't forgotten about that one time they had to stay over at someone else's house all of a sudden because of work either. It felt very similar this time around. And last time they hadn't seen their mom for days because she had been in the hospital. But mom and dad had promised to be okay this time; David had made them promise more than once and more than twice.

"They'll be okay", he declared, sure of it. "And now sleep."

Tali nodded, appeased by her brother's determination, and folded her hands beneath her head, snuggling into the pillow. David remained awake for a while, still, thinking about his sister's question; soon succumbing to sleep without a final answer. When Gibbs came upstairs half an hour later to take a shower and peeked into the guestroom, he found the kids both fast asleep in David's bed, faces turned towards each other. He left them to their dreams with a small chuckle.

* * *

><p>Tony and Ziva had spent most of their time since returning from their morning shower with writing up reports. Ziva, specifically, spent more than half of that time with translating their field reports into Hebrew so they could, as per Vance's orders, be forwarded to Mossad at the earliest convenience. Doing all of this on not a single hour of sleep required not only double the amount of coffee, but severely reduced the word count in the bullpen that morning. McGee couldn't help steal the occasional glance at his friends, but he was a man of deep sympathy and thus refrained from talking too much either.<p>

Hence the sudden change of demeanor was all the more obvious when Tony's phone started buzzing and a bright smile erupted on his face. He shot up and went over to Ziva's desk, placing his phone down in front of her. McGee watched as a similar smile settled on Ziva's face. Tony kneeled down beside her chair and jabbed a finger at his phone.

"Morning!"

"Morning, mommy! Morning, daddy!"

Those enthusiastic greetings at around nine in the morning were all it took for McGee to understand, and his smile came to mirror his friends'. His thoughts briefly drifted to his daughter and Liora's morning enthusiasm at pretty much any time of the day, and it suddenly became very hard to remember a time when there were no kids in their little odd family.

"Morning, you two", Tony greeted back. "Driving your Uncle Gibbs crazy already, I hope."

"You wish, DiNozzo", came Gibbs' voice faintly from somewhere in the background. He had dialed Tony's number and then slipped his cell in between the kids' cereal bowls, but he was still there at the kitchen table.

"Uncle Gibbs said we're staying with him today", David stated, adjoining a faint question mark to his sentence.

"That is right, tateleh", Ziva confirmed, shooting Tony a look. "Your father and I will be working the whole day."

"And we're not goin' to school?", Tali asked.

"No", Ziva answered slowly, "Not yet."

"'Cause you don't have a plan to catch the bad guy yet?", David went on.

Ziva gave a silent sigh, which Tony took as a signal to take over. "We're working on it, buddy."

"So, we'll sleep here again t'night?", Tali asked, actually sounding disappointed.

Tony and Ziva shared a long look. It took a lot to make their kids not jump at the mere possibility of a sleepover at their Uncle Gibbs' and that lot had apparently been reached now. "No, tateleh. I will come in the afternoon and pick you up", Ziva said suddenly, her eyes not leaving Tony's. Tony nodded, a smile settling on his face upon the kids' excited response.

"Can I help make dinner?", David asked instantly.

"Can we watch the doggy movie?", Tali added, referring to _Lady and the Tramp_; one of Tony's more offhand promises from a few days ago.

"We'll see if that can be arranged", Tony answered, his tone vague but light enough to elicit their consent.

It wasn't easy being so far away when they should have been right there. What was even more, they would have liked to at least savour their moments from a distance, but McGee suddenly whispering their names quickly trumped that plan as well. Offering them a sympathetic smile, McGee motioned towards his computer screen and they knew it was time to wrap it up.

Ziva turned her attention back to the phone. "Your father and I have to get back to work now."

"Okay", David conceded, adding on a lighter note, "But see you soon?"

"Yes, see you soon, tateleh."

"Bye, mommy. Bye, daddy."

"David, buddy, put your Uncle Gibbs on for a sec, will you?"

"Okay. Bye!"

"Yes?", Gibbs demanded at once, his voice now loud and clear as he held the phone to his ear. "I already knew I'd have them for the day, you know."

Ziva smiled at his tone. "And for that we thank you."

"But we kind of hoped you could take them tomorrow as well?"

"We know, it is a lot to ask-"

"I can use some extra hands", Gibbs cut in quickly.

Tony and Ziva shared a look with a hint of suspense lingering between them. "You ever going to tell us what it is you're working on?"

Gibbs gave a half-laugh. "Not planning on it, DiNozzo."

"Gibbs?"

"Yes?"

"Arik is dead."

There was a pause. "Kadeer catch on?"

"We think so. His MO."

"Three down, one to go."

When they finally hung up the phone, the echo of Gibbs' words remained. They had started out with nothing and now they were down to one person only: Kadeer Haswari. If ever there was one, this was the moment to ponder and remember their reasons for doing this. Why were they after him? Because he was a threat. Because he was an executive part of a splinter group that was responsible for a fair number of attacks on civilians all over the Middle East; following their own set of codes and rules of justice. More so, Kadeer's entourage had killed two innocent men, had attempted a kidnapping, and he had, singularly, executed a Mossad operative and was now posing a persistent threat to their family. They might not have liked the way the lines between professional and personal were blurring on this, once again, but they had every intention to bring Kadeer to trial in whichever court would try him.

"What have you got?", Tony asked McGee, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and with it shedding his daddy-demeanor and putting on the work face. Ziva followed closely behind, leaning on McGee's desk.

"The van they drove off in after Tali…", McGee didn't finish his sentence, but Tony and Ziva nodded their understanding anyway. "It was reported stolen three weeks ago. So, I put out a BOLO that same day. Local LEOs just found it in a lake near Fredericksburg."

"Would have been too easy", Ziva griped.

At that moment her eyes fell on Director Vance and her father coming down the stairs into the squadroom. She fixed her gaze on Eli and instantly recognized the familiar air of purpose returned to his poise. Inwardly, she couldn't help but shake her head. How over the years they had learned to deal with death so very similarly. Maybe she had adopted her father's way of dealing, maybe they were emulating each other: If at a loss, make purpose. It had helped them survive all these years. The question was whether it still was all about surviving.

The two men came to a halt in the bullpen. "From what I hear Kadeer Haswari is responsible for Arik's death?", Vance asked at once.

"Execution style."

"Arik had never communicated as openly with me as he had in the past weeks. I warned him not to become careless now", Eli explained. "But after he had so bluntly aborted their latest plan, he must have been unable to avert Kadeer's suspicions any longer."

"Seems that Kadeer's also sure he won't need Arik anymore", Tony surmised.

Ziva nodded. "This is not over yet."

"I will deliver Arik's remains to Israel. I will see to it that he will get a proper burial", Eli said, turning to look directly at Ziva. "My flight leaves tomorrow night."

"I will keep you in the loop", Vance threw in, repeating the promise he had already made upstairs.

"Thank you, my friend", Eli said, shaking Vance's hand. "Well then... Shalom."

For a moment, Eli locked eyes with Ziva and when he turned to leave, she followed him to the elevator. She stepped around him to press the button and rolled her eyes up at him.

"Does he have family in Israel?", she asked.

"No. He was orphaned young, never married, never had children", Eli recounted, a smile and a sigh mixing in with his voice. "I like to think that, in the end, that is a bad thing."

Ziva took a deep breath. "Shalom, Abba."

She leaned forward, placing her hands on his arms and her head on his shoulder in a vague hug, allowing Eli to kiss the side of her face. "Maybe you can try to see me off?"

Ziva pulled back to look at him, finding a sincere request glistening in his eyes. She nodded her head.

* * *

><p>In a way Ziva felt relieved her body and mind were all but exhausted and drained that afternoon. It was generally hard right now to wrap her mind and senses around all that had happened in the past few days: from anger and resolutions, from having her children put in danger and having her parents strangely reunited, to feeling oddly grateful to Arik Nadiv. They had officially closed their investigation of his death an hour ago after Abby had only been able to confirm the conjectural yield of Palmer's autopsy and no further evidence had surfaced. In due course, they had released the body.<p>

Ziva had just started filling out the unnecessarily complex application form for comp time, when her eyes fell on Ducky walking towards the director's office without having stopped over in the bullpen and without having announced his visit. He never did that.

"Tony, McGee", she called over, motioning towards the walkway.

Both men followed her line of vision, equally deep scowls settling on their faces. Tony was just about to open his mouth to comment when his desk phone started ringing.

"Very Special Agent DiNozzo", he answered, listening for only a few seconds before hanging up again. "Director's request."

Arriving in Vance's office, they found Ducky and Eliana already waiting there. Ziva realized that she hadn't seen Eliana all day. She wasn't sure if her mother had just avoided Eli or if she had actually had somewhere to be, but she wasn't going to dwell on it for long. Vance was sitting at the short end of the mahogany table, nodding at them as they entered. Ducky had taken a seat to his left.

"Sit", Vance invited them.

Tony, sporting an inquisitive frown, and McGee took the chairs closest to them on the left and on the right respectively, leaving both women a choice of four chairs. Their eyes met across the room for a second, daring each other to make the first move. To the on-looking men it appeared as if they then stepped forward simultaneously, Eliana going for the free chair next to Vance while Ziva chose to sit at the opposite end. A small smile tugged at Vance's lips as he leaned forward and onto the table.

"I know this case hits close to home for all of you", Vance started, his eyes briefly trained on Ziva in particular. "But at the end of the day, it's a case like any other and Kadeer Haswari is still out there. And I'll be damned if NCIS and half of Mossad can't stop him."

Unable not to, Tony inched forward in his chair, his foot slightly grazing Ziva's beside him.

"It's time we stop chasing ghosts, and get them to come to us instead", he continued, lifting his hand to point at Ducky. "And Dr. Mallard here has a proposition to do just that."

"Kadeer is alone now", Ziva said. "He will have to rethink whichever plan they might have had in the beginning."

"And Kadeer knows I am here", Eliana added, looking at no one in particular.

"You think Arik told him?"

"No, Arik died not saying anything", Ziva answered, she was sure of it. "But he knows Eli was involved now."

"Thus it will be paramount to concentrate on Kadeer alone and on his relationship with his ultimate objective, which is Eliana David", Ducky surmised.

"So, what's the plan?", Tony inquired, his probing gaze focused alternately on Vance and Ducky.

"Eliana was right. It is most dangerous for all involved when Kadeer feels threatened. He was able to live out his chosen way of life for decades, feeling safe", Ducky explained. "Yet, the moment he catches the mere scent of Eliana and recognizes the mere possibility of her survival he, with her, finds the ultimate threat to his family and his way of life and his father's legacy to have resurfaced. He came to hunt her down and he will not stop before he has accomplished that."

Vance nodded. "We might be in for a long ride."

"He has proven to be patient, indeed", Ducky agreed.

Tony scoffed. "And ruthless."

"So, the ride might not end well for us", McGee deadpanned.

Ducky quickly raised his hand to caution. "I believe that the only way for us to get Kadeer on a level playing field now is through giving him a false sense of security. We need to make him feel as though he is in control, without that actually being the case."

"And how do we do that exactly?"

"We give him what he wants", Ducky said simply.

"Me", Eliana concluded.

"Like a pig to the slaughter?", Ziva threw in, a frown on her face. Tony's eyes briefly darted over to her, but he remained silent.

"We will reintegrate her, make her live a normal life here", Ducky elucidated. "Routines. Routines make us feel safe, they are familiar and predictable. We give Kadeer something that he feels he can predict and handle on his own terms, and we will get him."

"With the very slight chance that he will just off her on the way to the grocery store", Tony countered.

"A risk I am willing to take, if it keeps everyone else safe", Eliana said, first looking at Ducky and then at Tony.

"I am afraid it will not be as simple as it sounds", Ducky cautioned. "But if we carefully orchestrate your life with them, then we allow Kadeer only a limited number of opportunities to get at you. And we will be monitoring them all."

In a way, it started to make sense to Ziva. Yet, the unsettling echo of a particular detail remained. "With _them_?", Ziva repeated, her eyes narrowing. "You mean with us? Eliana is supposed to stay with us?"

"He sure won't bite if we don't set it up at least somewhat believably", Vance cut in. "And we don't get better odds than with two Special Agents working on this round the clock."

"Easy for you to say", Tony rebuffed, straightening up in his chair alongside Ziva. "There's not only two agents in that house. There's our kids, too."

"And they have been endangered and uprooted enough in all of this", Ziva added, the fierce glisten in her eyes more directed at Eliana than at Vance.

"I'm not ordering you to do anything here, I want that clear", Vance held, his look sympathetic. "I do believe this is our best shot at getting that bastard. But it's your call to make."

"They will not be in danger, Ziva", Ducky insisted, looking at her directly.

Ziva held his gaze. She had always trusted Ducky. Ducky would have never done anything to deliberately hurt Tali and David. But still, her insides were cramping with resistance against that plan. "How can you be so sure?"

"He went after our kid before, remember?"

"That is why we will expose Eliana. He will not see any need to go after her vicariously, if he can go directly after her", Ducky explained.

"What if, say, we take Eliana with us to NCIS every day? Nice little routine. Who says he won't just booby-trap our car with the kids in it?", Tony demanded then.

"Because Kadeer has a sense of righteousness", Ducky maintained. "When Eliana supposedly died, he did not come after her family. Even years later. He did not go directly after Ziva's sister thirty years ago and he did not allow Nuri to kill Ziva even when they had ample opportunity to do so."

"I'm sure Johnston and Leahy don't see it just the same way", Tony argued.

"Lieutenant Johnston was a threat to the careful meticulousness of their plan. He was threatening their control, so he had to be eliminated", Ducky established. "And poor Mr. Leahy was simply a means to an end. With no meaning other than that. It is cruel, but that is what it is. Alas, controlled behavior does not preclude ruthlessness."

"And Ziva. Tali and David. Even Eli. They mean something?"

"Blood", Ziva realized, her gaze shifting towards Eliana. "We are blood."

Ducky nodded. "But Kadeer's need for revenge has a face. He does not kill for blood, but for what he feels he has to do to vindicate his father."

That struck a chord with McGee. "Niv Peled also had a father to vindicate and he clearly went after Ziva instead of her father", he argued.

"Revenge has many faces, Timothy", Ducky concluded. "Niv Peled was a man without power. When he left Mossad and fled Israel he lost all power, all the meaning to his name and life. He wanted power over Eli David in the face of powerlessness. Eli was far out of his reach and Niv was weak. He lost sight of the real target of his hatred as much as he lost stamina. Kadeer Haswari, on the other hand, is methodical and precise in a way that Niv Peled wasn't. He is a leader. And, he is a man who has nothing to lose or live for."

"If you choose to go through with this plan, we will classify it as a specialized op. This will give you both, and particularly Agent David, some leeway with your work time", Vance said, substituting the formalities through furrowed brows. "Home hours will count as much as protection or stakeout details."

"We can regulate our hours. Stay home more", Tony carried on, catching the director's drift, his hand finding its way to Ziva's knee underneath the table. "Keeps us more focused."

"_If_ you choose to go through with it, yes", Vance nodded. "I'm nothing if not privy to the demands of protecting one's family."

Tony and Ziva turned towards each other, searching each other's eyes on what to do.

* * *

><p>Ziva left the office that day abruptly. Except for saying goodbye to Abby she breezed through the bullpen and out of the building without a word, leaving only a quick peck on Tony's lips. She didn't care at that point if anyone saw. What she wanted right now were her kids. She wanted the joy erupting on their faces when the door to Gibbs' house was opened. She wanted the sound of their voices calling her <em>'mom'<em>, calling her _'mommy'_ - because that's who she was. She wanted their gripes and grumbles and problems. She wanted to feel her life, the life she had worked so hard to build, the life that had required years to take root and flourish. Because, right now, she felt savagely uprooted and, for lack of a better word, unsettled.

When the kids darted upstairs to retrieve some of their things, Gibbs read her face like a book. He raised his eyebrows, but Ziva merely uttered Tony's name. Gibbs nodded. Tony would call. Tony would explain. Ziva just bundled the kids up in the car and went home, their home. She made dinner in their kitchen, with David helping her and Tali entertaining them with accounts of their day with Gibbs. When Tony came home a little while later he told her that he had filled their former boss in and that Gibbs was there if they needed him, be that to talk or to bring over a body bag. Ziva just smiled and returned to setting the table with Tali.

After dinner Tony flung himself into a long speech about the history of what their daughter called _'doggy movies'_, at the end of which jabbing a button on the TV to reveal, Tali's excited clapping enclosed, _Lady and the Tramp_ for an impromptu movie night. All four of them snuggled up on the couch and while Tali and David followed the movie, Tony and Ziva had a long conversation with their eyes over the top of their heads.

They weren't sure how, but somehow they ended up in their bed, Tony on his side and Ziva on hers, their eyes still locked, and their kids cradled in-between them. Tali was lying next to Ziva, snoring softly and still clasping Ziva's hand from when she had relocated to their bed after waking from a nightmare. David, most unusually, was lying next to Tony. The little boy was lying perfectly still, too, and had not offered any other reason for turning up at the footend of their bed an hour ago than a wordless shrug. So now, there they were, framing their little family in the middle of the night, right before a new morning that was to tip the balance.

A small smile crept onto Tony's face, looking into Ziva's eyes within the darkness of the room. "No place to hide anymore."


	33. Thrust Ashore

**Chap 33 Thrust Ashore **

**Friday, April 9****th**** 2021**

"Ziva, it's four o'clock in the morning", Tony mumbled.

"Tali was not leaving much room for me anyway", she replied, barely turning around to look at him.

She was standing in the doorway to the study, peering inside. It was lying dim before her. A weak, dwindling light bulb on the street outside rendered the edges of furniture and books barely discernible. The hallway was dark around her. Behind the door to their bedroom they could hear their children breathing rhythmically, engulfed by sleep's heavy footing.

Tony walked up to her and peeked over her shoulder. "Is this where the wild things are?", he asked, his voice so playfully serious a smile settled on Ziva's face.

"No, this is where Eliana will sleep", Ziva countered, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Tony looked into the room and back at Ziva, repeating that action twice. He positioned his body right behind hers and slung his arms around her middle. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"

"I heard us both agreeing to it in the director's office yesterday", Ziva sighed, enclosing the hands he had folded on top of her stomach with hers.

"After a long, awkward pause and lots of staring", he recalled, settling his head down on her shoulder.

"Remind me again why we are doing this."

"Because it's the only chance to keep everyone safe and Eliana as safe as possible. Because our kids and you would be in more danger if we didn't. Because we are our own best chance", Tony detailed, his voice even. "Because this is quite possibly our only shot at getting Kadeer."

Ziva nodded, having gone through all the reasons, and more, in her head over and over again in the past two hours. "You will have to repeat that list a lot in the next few days."

"Same here", Tony agreed, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "Days… Do we have any idea how extensive an arrangement this will be?"

Ziva shook her head.

"Yeah…"

"What do we tell the kids?", Ziva asked as she turned around in his arms, locking eyes with him.

Tony leaned his head back a little. "Truth worked well last time, didn't it?"

"Half-truth."

"Aren't they all?"

Ziva stretched a little to catch his lips, lingering in the kiss for a while, the calm it provided. When they pulled apart, Tony linked his arms behind her back and carefully tugged her along with him, taking side-step after side-step along the paneling until they arrived at their bedroom door. He had left it ajar when he had woken up to find Ziva gone, and had followed her outside. It now allowed them a revelatory view of their bed, Tali lying spread-eagle on Ziva's side and David wrapped up burrito-style in Tony's blanket.

"Mainly, though, this is why we're doing this."

Ziva smiled. "Isn't it always?"

* * *

><p>They had eventually returned to their bed and had tried to go back to sleep. While Tony had managed after an hour of careful tossing and turning, Ziva had left shortly thereafter to go on her morning run. She made it a longer one again, relishing the cool morning breeze, the lack of bustle, and sharing the streets only with other early comers and late returners. Back in the apartment she went straight for the bathroom. Once in the shower she tilted her head upwards, watching the shower head release beads of water above her as if to say that soon somebody foreign, somebody unknown, would stand beneath its stream. When she went to retrieve her clothes from the bedroom Tony was only slowly coming around. She offered him a swift smile before going downstairs to start on breakfast. A few minutes later, however, Tony found her with one hand still clutching the handle of the refrigerator, a milk carton clasped in the other, and blankly staring inside.<p>

"If you're too hot, my methods are much more fun", he quipped, kissing her temple and instantly yanking Ziva out of her momentary stupor.

"I know", she replied absently, snapping the refrigerator shut.

He watched her aimlessly fumble around with the fork for some time before deciding to intervene. He stepped up beside her and placed his hand on top of hers. "Why don't you go upstairs and wake the kids? Get them ready?", he suggested, a small smile on his face. "I'll take care of breakfast."

Ziva offered him half a nod, relinquishing her breakfast endeavor without a word of protest. He followed her with his eyes until she had vanished behind the corner, hoping that interacting with David and Tali in the early hours would keep her just focused enough. Since they still had work to do that morning, they had decided to tell the kids only later in the afternoon about the sudden changes to their living and family arrangement; not wanting to drop that bomb on them just to hand them over to Gibbs a second later. As Tony had expected, the kids provided Ziva with necessary distraction and something to concentrate on other than her own thoughts. Once breakfast was finished they filed into Tony's car and went to Gibbs' place to drop the kids off, promising more than once and in different variations that they would be back soon.

At the Navy Yard they promptly reported to the director's office, where they received their official orders and were briefed on the operation protocol. Eliana was hardly to leave the apartment and, if at all, was to be accompanied by either Ziva or Tony. Neither of them had any idea how that would work and if that had any chance of working at all, but they had no other choice than to try. Ducky joined them halfway through their meeting to assure them, once more, of the sound reasoning behind his analysis and that this plan would pose the least risk to everyone involved. He looked at Ziva at that point, specifically, and there really was nothing else to do but trust the older man on this.

Outside Vance's office Ducky keenly invited them to his manor on Sunday and they promised to follow his invitation this time around. Afterwards they returned to the bullpen to finish their reports. They knew they wouldn't be spared the usual barrage of cases, but they at least wanted the reports on their current case to be up-to-date.

They stepped off the elevator two hours later, finding McGee and Abby huddled together down in the lab. Abby noticed them the moment they crossed the threshold to _Labby Land_ and crashed into them with the full force of a hug as fast as her new boots would carry her.

"Hey, you guys", she greeted, momentarily smushed in-between them. "How are you?"

"Fine, Abby. Thank you", Ziva replied, a small smile twisting her lips.

"We're actually on our way out. Just wanted to give my Number Two a heads-up, McSenior-Field-Agent here", Tony griped, glaring at McGee. "But first he's nowhere to be found and when I call his cell, the whole squadroom starts trembling to the fanfare from Kubrick's '_Space Odyssey'_."

"Liora loves that tune", McGee defended.

"Oh, sure she does, McGeek."

Abby smacked her lips, tilting her head a little to the side. "He's hiding from you guys."

"Abby!", McGee cried, finally taking a step forward.

Abby shrugged, looking between Ziva and Tony. "He didn't know what to say."

"Why would you not know what to say, McGee?", Ziva inquired, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, you know-"

"First the thing with Tali, then Eli turns up, then the good bad-guy is found dead and now Eliana's moving in with you", Abby summarized, her arms flying out to the sides. "I mean, what do you say to that? _'Sorry'_? _'Mazel Tov'_? _'We're here when you need us'_? What can you say, really?"

"'_We're here when you need us'_ sounds good to me", Tony declared offhandedly, smiling softly. "Ziva?"

Ziva nodded. "It is always good to hear that."

"Then that's it. If you need anything at all", Abby nodded and spread her arms, "Incoming."

Once again she wrapped her arms around Tony and Ziva, and they couldn't help but smile at the very Abby-like gesture. It was good to know that some things were stable, solid, some things would not change.

"How about we invite you to lunch on Sunday?", McGee asked slowly, an unsure smile on his face.

Tony and Ziva shared a look, their Sunday already starting to look like a big, crowded family fest. "Group hug, Tim", Tony said, reaching out one of his arms.

McGee stepped up to them. And a group hug it turned out to be.

* * *

><p>When the PFC had turned on his heel to return to his post, Ziva and Tony were left standing in front of an admittedly dreary-looking set of buildings, medium-sized and weathered, a dozen doors on each side, bleak and alike, complemented by one window each: Navy Yard lodging. Ziva remembered staying in one of those two-room apartments for almost four weeks before she had sorted out her life post-Somalia enough to make the transition to a new apartment, and a new life.<p>

"Seven", Tony repeated the warden's words and set out for the door in question.

Ziva knocked once and the door opened right away. In the doorframe - tall, slender and dressed in sheer black - appeared Eliana David. She was clutching a duffel bag that appeared barely half-filled.

"That's all you have?", Tony couldn't stop himself from asking.

"All I possess", Eliana replied simply.

They nodded. There was nothing else. On their way to the car they stopped over at the warden's office and returned Eliana's keys before setting out for their apartment. When they arrived, Ziva led their way, opening the door to Eliana's temporarily new home. She quickly discarded her things by the door to give Eliana some space, Tony following her a moment later. From their position by the couch they watched the wide-eyed expression erupt on Eliana's face as she stepped into the living room: So, this was her daughter's life.

At first she seemed almost hesitant, her fleeting glances hitting Ziva and Tony alike. But they didn't move to stop her. Rather, they took their own time to process the image of Ziva's mother, believed lost and dead for so long, standing in their apartment, Tony's and her apartment, with the wondrous gaze of a small child. Yet, she wasn't. She was a grown woman who, for the first time in thirty years, was granted a real glimpse into the life of her child. Ziva wasn't sure whether she wanted to scream or cry. In the end, she did neither. She watched, unmoving, in body and expression.

Eliana was tightly holding onto her bag as she wandered over to the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. She could make out the door to the kitchen and the shelves by the TV filled to the brim with DVDs. The bedrooms, she figured, were upstairs and she didn't dare deviate from what she assumed would be the beaten path for her arrival. To the left of the staircase her eyes landed upon a big wooden box with colorful carvings and a high shelf with pictures all over.

They were pictures of Ziva's life, a life she had not been a part of: pictures of Tony and her alone, pictures of each of them with their children, pictures of Tali and of David, pictures of them as a family and pictures of them with their extended family, and one of Tali, David and Eli in what she recognized as her garden in Haifa; all of these faces she had seen before. Then there was one picture of a little boy and a man that looked a lot like Tony who she thus assumed was Tony's father and one of a little boy and a woman she figured was Rosalie, the _other_ grandmother, the dead one. A part of her, a selfish part maybe, looked in vain for a picture of herself. She wanted to stop herself right there, but suddenly there it was, at the far end: the picture of Ziva, Tali and Ari that she had taken in the streets of Tel Aviv the year that she had left them.

"You kept it", Eliana said quietly, her eyes glued to the image displayed, the details of that day. She had not laid eyes on her youngest daughter and her stepson in years, apart from the family portrait in her locket.

"I did not, actually", Ziva replied, running a hand through her hair. "Abba kept it. This one is his."

Eliana slightly shook her head. "But there were two. Your father-"

"I know, I remember. You took that picture and you gave it to Abba for his new office. But he realized how much you loved it, so he had a copy made. He came over one night while we were having dinner and surprised you with it", Ziva recounted, her voice only a whisper. "After you…_left _I went to your bedroom and took it. I hid it for years, carried it with me everywhere."

"What happened to it?"

Ziva just stared at Eliana for a moment since the older woman had finally turned around to be really looked at. Tony realized that Ziva was struggling for words with a small sideway glance. "It was lost on a mission", he substituted, his hand instinctively clasping Ziva's behind her back. "So Eli gave up his copy."

A small smile appeared on Eliana's face that suggested her appreciation of the kindness that was Eli's gesture. But as Tony watched her turn away from the shelf and the pictures, he couldn't help but realize just how clueless that woman was. Somalia, the mission where Ziva had lost, scuttled, deep-sixed her copy of that picture, was such a big part of who the woman beside him was, of who she had become and of how she had become his - and Eliana knew nothing, nothing about it, nothing at all. She had no idea.

"That is a beautiful vase", Eliana remarked, having turned her attention to the right side of the room now. For some reason that vase stood out to her. It seemed different. It was colorful, but not too brightly, in a shape that allowed each beholder to venture their own guess.

Tony and Ziva shared a look. "Kids picked it out", Tony clarified, grinning at Ziva from the side.

Eliana nodded. "They have an eye."

"Let me show you where you will sleep then", Ziva cut in abruptly, eager to get this over with for now. She wanted to get to the part of the day that involved her children.

Ziva once again led the way, taking a stand in the middle of the hallway upstairs. She pointed out the designation of each room, ending with the study. "Which will be yours", Ziva said, adding as a no-less-important afterthought, "For the time being."

Eliana nodded gratefully and stepped into the study, cautiously putting her bag down by the door.

"It's not much, but we don't have a guestroom", Tony remarked, standing beside Ziva in the doorframe. "Someone insisted a study was more important."

"It is more than enough." Eliana turned in time to see an honest smile flash over her daughter's face in response to Tony's pointed grin.

She watched for a moment as their eyes locked and not a word was being said while they seemed to have a whole conversation. Tony leaned in and whispered something into Ziva's ear, to which she nodded her head, her hand grazing his shoulder as he stepped around her and went back downstairs. Before Ziva could notice her staring, Eliana had turned back to scan the room, instantly mesmerized by the books lining the walls.

"It is nothing like your library in Haifa or the one in our house in Tel Aviv", Ziva commented, leaning against the doorframe now.

"It is wonderful", Eliana whispered, her eyes skimming along the titles. "They certainly are in more languages than mine ever were."

"I picked up on a few more than Hebrew and English along the way."

Eliana nodded, only briefly glancing at Ziva before running a hand over the distinctly worn back of a book with Hebrew titling on one of the lower shelves. "It appears that fairytales are read often in this house."

A small smile graced Ziva's features. "That is David's. He had a phase…"

"I sneaked into public libraries all over the world", Eliana mused, stretching a little to get a better look at books on the upper shelves. "I have not owned a book in thirty years."

"Well, then you will be amply occupied", Ziva concluded, pushing herself away from the dark-wood paneling. "Tony and I will go and get the children now. They do not know about all of this yet, so it will take a while to explain."

Eliana lowered herself onto the couch, her eyes rolling up at her daughter. "You do not owe me an explanation."

"I do, if I want my protection detail to understand why she has to stay away from windows, not to answer the door and that she is to call in case anything happens", Ziva listed, her voice even and composed.

So, that's what she was: _protection detail_. Eliana nodded. "Very well."

Ziva returned her nod and left.

* * *

><p>Tony could see just how anxious Ziva was, the whole twenty-eight minutes of their car ride to Gibbs' place. Over the years the tell-tale signs had lessened, but even twelve years after Somalia Ziva still kneaded her hands together when she was preoccupied and strained in a way that took away leftover energy to control her little tics. Then again, he also noticed the way she was glancing at him whenever he wasn't looking and he realized he must have written worry all over his face as well.<p>

"God, we look like a train wrack ready to happen", Tony said, pulling into Gibbs' driveway and swiftly surveying his reflection in the rearview mirror.

Ziva huffed slightly. "I guess, we are both not entirely convinced that the truth is all we will need to set us free."

Tony leaned over, kissing her cheek. "All hail Mary", he proclaimed, already opening the door on his side.

Gibbs, having noticed them walk up to the house, opened the door before they could even knock. His blazing blue eyes instantly landed on Ziva. "You okay, Ziver?"

"Trying to be", Ziva replied, a small smile on her lips.

"You keep trying", he said, looking between her and Tony.

Tony nodded. "Kids?"

"Upstairs."

Arriving at the top of the stairs they went straight to the guestrooms, where they could hear the sounds of their children's agitated banter. Sure enough, they found them arguing over something in the middle of a card game they appeared to be playing, or rather disagreeing on. Tony and Ziva shared a swift smile before they each took a seat on the edge of the bed beside them.

"Are we going home now?", David asked hopefully, already moving to put away his cards.

"No more work?", Tali added, looking up at Ziva from where she was leaning against her mother in a semi-hug.

"No more work today, tateleh", Ziva confirmed, adding into the direction of her son, "And we are going home in a little while, yes."

"But before that we got to have a little talk first, okay?", Tony said, looking at both of his kids.

"But I didn't tell no one this time that my mommy and daddy can put them in prison when they take away my toys. Really", Tali defended herself at once, remembering the last time she had had to have a talk with her parents.

Tony chuckled slightly, while an amused smile settled on Ziva's lips. "You're not in trouble, princess", Tony assured her, adding, "No one is in trouble."

"But some things have happened in the past few days and we want to talk to you about those", Ziva clarified.

David's brow furrowed noticeably. "That's why you've been working so much and Saba Eli's in town?"

Tony nodded. "Yep. Lots of things going on right now."

"Like what?

Tony and Ziva shared a look. He knew it wasn't his place to start. Ziva took a deep breath. "Well, do you remember what I told you about my mother?", she prompted.

David nodded. "She's not with us anymore."

"Like daddy's mommy."

"That's right", Ziva continued, giving each of them a small, approving smile. "For a long, long time I believed that my mother, Eliana, that she was not with us anymore. But a few days ago we discovered that she is. My mother is still alive. She is still with us."

This was about the shortest and to-the-point explanation that she could give. Tony and Ziva watched their kids closely as her words slowly started to sink in, taking their time to register with them. They realized it wouldn't be an easy thing to understand, especially when the intricacies of the issue had to remain obscure, for obvious reasons. However, Ziva wasn't only thinking about the details of Eliana's return that had to be bent out of shape in order to fit an explanation she could give her children in good conscience. Back in the car she had realized how important a fact of life it was to understand the finality of death. Death was a hard enough concept to grasp as it was. Even if she would do everything to spare her children the familiarity with death that she had grown up to know, she still wanted them to understand that death was an irreversible fact, a part of life. They needed to understand that, and having their grandmother almost magically resurrected wasn't helping that particular lesson.

Both kids were obviously struggling to make sense of her words. A deep scowl etched itself onto David's face. "She's alive?", he repeated tentatively.

Tony nodded. "Yes, she's alive."

"How?"

"She had to go away a long, long time ago. When I was your age", Ziva said, looking at her son. "She could not tell us about it, none of us. Not even my father."

If possible, David's scowl became even deeper, the look in his eyes bewildered. "So she made you think she was dead?"

Ziva swallowed the lump forming in her throat. That was exactly the problem, wasn't it? Feeling betrayed by the people you trust the most.

"Why'd she do that?", Tali demanded. She was sitting up now, looking alternately at Tony and Ziva, her forehead creased with likeminded wrinkles.

"You see, she had a job to do. A very important job to protect her kids, to protect your mom. And she thought that this job would keep her away from her family forever. But, it turns out, it didn't", Tony tried to clarify.

"She did not tell her family because she did not know that she would ever be able to come back to us at all", Ziva repeated.

"She lied about it", David summarized bluntly, his eyes fixed on his mother.

"But lying's bad", Tali recited dutifully, looking at both of her parents for confirmation.

"You are right, it is bad", Ziva confirmed, offering her daughter a small smile. "But my mother had to lie or she could not have done her job and protected us."

"Sometimes grown-ups, they don't want to lie and they know it's bad. But sometimes they have to, you know", Tony added quickly. "When they think they need to lie to protect their family and do their jobs, then they do. They won't like it, but they do."

Tony and Ziva shared a heavy look. The kids' expressions were not exactly alight with understanding. It would have been too ambitious to expect that anyway. They could hardly claim understanding it themselves. But David's eyes had dropped to the pattern of the bedclothes, and his gaze was hardened with concentration.

Ziva inclined her head a little, searching her son's eyes. "What is it, tateleh?"

He seemed to carefully form a question in his head as he raised his head to look back at his mother. "She's here now, your mom?"

"Yes."

David nodded vaguely. "For the bad man?"

Ziva could barely keep the smile from flickering across her face. Seeing as Tali's head had whipped up at her instantly, she moved a gentle hand to rest on her daughter's back, before she returned David's nod. "That bad man we are trying to catch? Yes, he was part of her job", Ziva confirmed.

"So, now that she's here, she can help us catch him and help us protect the two of you", Tony elaborated. He glanced at Ziva, his eyes dropping the cue for the part where they needed to start preparing the kids for Eliana waiting at their apartment.

"That is also why she will stay with us for a while now", Ziva added quickly.

David frowned again. "At our house?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't have a room", Tali observed.

"She will sleep in the study, tateleh."

The little girl pondered the practicalities of that for a moment, tilting her head to the side. "What if she's in the bathroom and I need to go?"

Tony and Ziva couldn't help but laugh slightly at this. Now, these were the real, practical problems. "She's just like your mom or me or your brother, princess. You just let her know. She won't be in there forever", Tony assured her.

David wasn't following their line of conversation, though. He was processing the matter in his own way, and questions sprang up rapidly. "What do we call her?", he asked.

"Well, technically she's your grandmother", Tony replied, shooting Ziva an unsure glance.

David rolled his eyes up to meet his mother's, looking at her strangely. "But she's not, though. Grandmas are like…around all the time and look after you for your mom and dad and they bake and they come to school plays and they give you presents."

"Some grandmothers do that, neshomeleh. But they are all different, just like your father and I are different from other parents", Ziva explained, trying to direct her answer at both of her children.

Tony nodded encouragingly. "Or like your Aunt Abby and your Uncles. They are different, but that's okay. Every family's supposed to be different."

"And your Saba Eli is not around all the time either. She is just like that."

"But Saba Eli visits all the time and he calls", David defended.

Ziva almost launched into arguing that Eli hadn't been around as a grandfather, or even as much of a father, for most of her and her children's life. But David didn't seem to see that big of a difference there. Then again, Eli might have lacked physical presence in their lives until a few years back, but she had still talked about him, told them stories, showed them recent pictures. They had always known their grandfather existed; with Eliana things were so entirely different.

"Even daddy's Sen-uh visits too", Tali added, pointing at her father.

Anthony DiNozzo Senior; a man the little girl had only seen a grand total of six times in all of her life. Tony's father had made a habit of showing up once a year, usually on his own terms and without pre-issuing any warning. Then Tony would get worked up, father and son would start dealing, and in the end things usually remained the same. Tony Sr. was a well-meaning man, good-hearted, and Ziva was quite fond of her father-in-law. However, Senior just lacked the drive and incentive to work things through with his son on a more permanent basis. Ziva usually marveled at her own self-restraint at the end of each of Senior's visits; that she didn't just dismiss the promise she had given Tony in favor of giving the old con man a vehement piece of her mind.

"Like we said, she could not visit us before, tateleh."

"Why?"

Tony suddenly felt very much reminded of that time, not long ago, when he had lost a square three rounds of rock-paper-scissors against Ziva and been the one having to explain to his five-year-old daughter why mommy and daddy had different last names, why she had daddy's last name, and why she couldn't just decide on the spot which last name to bestow on herself.

"Because she was working all over the world for her job. Far, far away from here", Tony answered.

"What's she do?"

"She was working for your Saba Eli. Like I was before I came to work for your Uncle Gibbs", Ziva explained, fixing her eyes on her son. "Do you remember what I told your class about my work there?"

David nodded slowly, his frown persisting. "It's really important work for Israel, where you come from. And it's very dangerous, but it helps protect a lot of people."

Tony caught the sudden guilt erupt in Ziva's eyes at that moment; guilt she skillfully and quickly hid behind a proud smile. "That is right", she confirmed.

"But why couldn't she visit? You work and come home all the time", Tali asked again, her mind still stuck on that particular detail.

"She had very dangerous and important work to do and it kept her away until now. It just was not possible."

"But you didn't know that?", David repeated his question from before. This was the very part he just couldn't wrap his mind around.

Ziva sighed. "No, tateleh. I did not know about it until now."

Tali shook her head, her hand shooting out to touch her mother's upper arm. "That's really not a nice thing of her to do, mommy."

Ziva was almost about to agree with her daughter, a smile forming on her face, but Tony jumped in before she could utter a word. "She didn't do it on purpose, princess. She didn't want to, but she had to."

Tali shrugged. "It's still not nice."

"Maybe she could have tried harder to let you know", David griped.

"Maybe. But sometimes we just have to live with the things how they are and not think about how we want them to be", Ziva tried, sensing her son's continuing reserve. She could relate, really. "That is the only way we can change things in the future, if we really want to."

"And that's exactly what we'll be trying to do now", Tony added. "Right now we'll just have to try and make it work."

"How long will she stay?", David asked.

"A few weeks."

The words just tumbled out of Tony's mouth. He briefly looked over at Ziva, but she didn't seem to mind. They had to put a frame on this. It couldn't go on forever. It just felt weird to secretly hope Kadeer would make his move at some point in the upcoming weeks so they could move on to dealing with that instead.

"It's going to be a bit of a change, we know that. But we can do this. All of us together?", Tony repeated, feeling the need to establish some kind of baseline here.

The kids nodded their heads at their father's words, but otherwise remained silent. For a while they just appeared to be silently processing. Tali soon shifted her position on the bed, aligning her back with Ziva's side and Ziva draped an arm around her daughter, absently stroking the back of her hand. David, in turn, just sat there and stared straight ahead, his mind racing with thoughts. Ziva looked over at Tony, a sigh in her eyes.

"Do you have any more questions?", Ziva inquired. When no reply came, she added, "Remember that you can talk to your dad and me whenever you need to."

"Why aren't you happy, mommy?", Tali asked in a small voice, her eyes fixed on her mother's hand on top of hers.

"Why do you say that?"

Tali turned a little in her position and rolled her sincerely curious eyes up at Ziva. "When you were away for a long time 'cause of the acci- the ac-cident, I was really, really happy when I saw you again. But you don't look happy that your mommy's back."

Tony's eyes locked with Ziva's over their daughter's head. David was watching their exchange as well now, his look just as curious as his sister's. "I am trying to be happy, tateleh", Ziva answered slowly.

"If you're happy 'bout somethin', mommy, you don't have to try", Tali stated with a matter-of-fact tone that drew a smile on Ziva's face in spite of it all.

She leaned forward and planted a kiss onto her daughter's curls. "Yes, but sometimes we feel so many feelings at the same time. Maybe some of my feelings are happy ones, but I do not really know yet. But I am trying to find out, yes?"

Tali nodded and settled back against her. The four of them staid on the bed until Gibbs barged in and started rambling, in more words than was his usual mid-afternoon quota, about a meeting with Vance. Or was it Fornell? Neither Tony, nor Ziva really paid attention to what their former boss was saying. They realized it didn't matter. They were just thankful he was offering them some kind of bookend to their conversation and was basically forcing them to go back to their apartment and get things settled once and for all. They knew right well that things wouldn't soon and easily settle, but they had to start sometime. Gibbs knew that, he knew that better than anyone. So, they let the kids say goodbye to their Uncle Gibbs while they looked on gratefully, promising that they would be back for dinner on Sunday; as was their fortnightly tradition.

* * *

><p>When they entered their apartment, both Tony and Ziva made an honest effort to pretend that this was just another late Friday afternoon. They conducted a quick poll on their dinner plans, coming to an agreement on Tony's casserole just as they were entering the living room. Eliana was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. She had heard them come in and decided to tackle the fateful first encounter with her grandchildren head-on.<p>

Tali instantly took a hold of Ziva's hand beside her, turning to hide half of her body behind her mother's legs. Ziva was familiar with Tali's reaction to strangers, but it never ceased to surprise her just how different her daughter was around people she did not know and trust.

David was standing next to Tony, scanning the woman he had been told was his grandmother from head to toe. He remembered the pictures of her that his mom had showed him and realized that this woman had the same piercing chocolate brown eyes. Her hair wasn't as brown anymore, and not as long, and there were grey streaks in it. She looked older than in the pictures, but not as old as some of his schoolmates' grandmas. And she looked much more tired.

"I am Eliana. You must be David", Eliana greeted, stepping forward and extending her hand.

The eight-year-old's eyes briefly shot up at his father and Tony nodded encouragingly. A little hesitant, the little boy took her hand and shook it. "I am."

Eliana gave him a bright smile, which he didn't return. Instead, he let go of her hand a second later and resumed his staring. Eliana tried not to make anything of it and instead turned to Ziva and the little girl still hiding behind her. Ziva didn't make a move to urge Tali out from behind her legs, she just squeezed her daughter's hand reassuringly.

"Then you are Talia", Eliana said, smiling at the five-year-old.

Upon being addressed by the woman's voice, a voice that sounded nothing like her mom's voice even though Tali had expected it to, the little girl peeked out from her hiding spot. "You're the woman in the park", Tali realized, her eyes instantly shooting up at her mother.

Ziva muttered a curse word in a language none of her children knew. She had forgotten all about that little detail. She quickly crouched down to her daughter's eye-level, her hand never releasing Tali's. "So that is why she said she was not a stranger, yes?", she suggested, giving her daughter a small smile.

Tali scrunched up her face, trying to remember. After a while she nodded her head. "Why was she at the park, mommy?"

Ziva wanted to turn around and glare at Eliana for making this even more difficult on them, but she didn't. Instead, she concentrated on her daughter. "She was already looking out for you and me then."

Tali frowned. "Why didn't she stay?"

"She still had work to do, tateleh", Ziva explained. "But she came to see your daddy and me the next day."

Tali thought about this for a moment and then nodded her head again. Then she turned a little to the side, took a deep breath, extended the hand that wasn't still holding Ziva's and recited dutifully, "My name is Talia Rosalie Eliana DiNozzo, but ev'ryone calls me Tali."

Ziva and Tony shared a smile over their daughter's head as Eliana shook the five-year-old's hand, a smile also playing on her lips. Ziva moved her palm to rest on her daughter's back, showing the five-year-old that she did good, and more than that.

* * *

><p>They disbanded quickly after that, Tony and Ziva both adamant not to allow silence and awkwardness to linger. They let the kids decide whether they wanted to help with dinner or go play in their rooms in the meantime and both of them chose to spend time with their parents. While David helped Tony cook, Tali sat on the counter with Ziva by her side, chatting away after a little bit of parental coaxing. Ziva could tell that the five-year-old's eyes were wandering towards the kitchen door every so often, whenever she thought Ziva wasn't looking, scouting around for their house guest. Eliana, however, had stayed in the living room in an effort not to intrude too much on her first day.<p>

She only joined them for dinner upon Ziva's explicit urging, but it wouldn't have made much of a difference if she hadn't. The kids were ignoring her presence; David evidently so and Tali in favor of shooting her covert glances. Ziva realized she wasn't setting a good example what with not interacting with Eliana at all, but she could not think of a single thing to say, let alone a question to ask her. Tony, on the other end, was bending over backwards to keep their dinner table at least somewhat lively, taking it upon himself to provide stories and questions and entertainment.

After dinner Eliana offered to help put away the dishes, but Ziva swiftly declined, claiming it was not necessary. So, Eliana had eventually retreated to the study, trying her hardest not to disturb any established routines. From behind its closed door she could hear the sounds of these routines as they unfolded gloriously: of bath times and pajama choices, of promises for the next day and muffled questions as to her whereabouts. She heard Tony and David negotiate what she could only guess was a selection of movies. She realized, it being Friday and all, that David was probably allowed to stay up late. She heard Tali's voice asking Ziva for a long story instead.

Eliana remembered reading stories to her children. She remembered the stories of empires and kings that had so magically captivated eight-year-old Ziva. Now it was Ziva herself who was reading to her daughter. And Eliana was in here, listening to her daughter read, listening to her enact different voices and laugh, honestly and freely, from behind a door. She felt like she was spying, like a spy, like an intruder. But she couldn't help it. She listened for a long time, until Ziva's voice stopped and she heard steps quietly treading on the stairs. She just sat and listened as muffled sounds, emitted by the TV, drifted up to her.

She must have fallen asleep on the couch, because a sudden knock at the door jerked her awake. Tony's head peeked into the room. "I'm sorry, didn't think you'd be asleep", he apologized quickly.

"It was a long day."

"It's not over yet", Tony replied plainly. "Ziva is waiting for you down in the car."

Eliana frowned. "Why?"

"You'll see", he said, leaving the door ajar.

Eliana remained still for a moment, urging her mind to catch up with her. Tony was sitting on the couch downstairs, nodding towards the front door as she passed. Taking the elevator, she stepped out into the cool of the evening a few minutes later. Ziva really was waiting for her in the car and started the engine as soon as Eliana had closed the door on the passenger's side.

Eliana refrained from asking again, but Ziva eventually issued the answer anyway. "Eli's plane is leaving in an hour."

She couldn't help it, her head whipped around to face her daughter, the muscles in her neck clenching nervously. Ziva noticed, of course. "Ziva, I do not think this is a good idea. Eli-"

"He asked me to."

With that the subject was dropped and replaced by silence. They didn't talk anymore until Ziva had parked the car and led their way to where she knew Eli was going to be awaiting take-off. She spotted him from afar, but he had his back turned. Only when she opened her mouth to alert him to their arrival, did Eli David turn around.

"Abba?"

A smile appeared on his face. "Sometimes life does surprise you", he remarked, reaching out to place a hand on Ziva's shoulder and leaning forward for a kiss to her cheek. Then his eyes wandered to the side, to where Eliana was standing a little behind their daughter.

"I will leave you two alone, so-"

"No, stay", Eli insisted, letting go of her and instead fixing his wife with a stare. "You should stay."

His wife. Technically, she really was. They had separated shortly after Ari had come to live with them, but she had never divorced him. She had always stayed by his side, had attended every function, and had received every high-ranking guest right by his side. She had served appearances for his standing's sake, for their family's sake, but she had never been his wife in body and spirit again. He had had affairs, more than just Hosmoya Haswari. Eliana had known, of course. She had regulated his access to all of his children, convinced that his plans for them had been the wrong ones. She had tried to make him see that, tried so hard. She had loved him, and he had loved her. And then she had left.

"Eliana", he let her name roll off his tongue, slowly, appreciatively so. "Ani mitzta'er."

"Neither of us is free of fault", she replied. "I am sorry too."

"I guess."

Eliana slightly shook her head. "What can you say after all these years?"

He smiled somewhat at this, taking off his glasses. "I have missed you."

"Yes, I believe so", she said, mirroring his smile. She looked at him, scrutinizing his features. He looked so much older, many more of a life past running along the lines on his face. He was old. Well, she supposed, so was she. "I saw you with our grandchildren."

He gave a small laugh, his eyes flickering to Ziva. "They are more than I could have ever imagined them to be."

Eliana couldn't help but compare how the kids had reacted to her a few hours ago and the manner in which they had interacted with Eli, the grandfather they had accepted as such. She couldn't help but wonder if she would ever get the chance to come as far with them as he had. "Thank you, for taking care of our family."

"I fear, I did not fulfill all the promises that we made to them", Eli admitted.

"You stayed. And you tried", she held. "Ziva-"

"I like to think that Ziva turned out the way she did in spite of me", he countered, turning his smile to meet Ziva's coy return. She didn't even try to make eye contact.

Eliana watched them closely. "Father and daughter were always too alike for their own good."

Eli threw his head back a little, his eyes narrowing, and focused on his daughter. She shook her head slightly and he let it be. "Maybe that was it", he relented, turning back to Eliana.

"Sir?"

One of Eli's bodyguards turned up beside them, informing him that the plane was ready and Arik Nadiv's remains were loaded and secured.

Eli first turned to Ziva, putting his glasses back on and offering her a smile. "Be very careful about Kadeer. I will call you when I am safe", he said and she nodded her head in response.

Then he turned to Eliana, staring at her for a long time. "Shalom."

She nodded. "Shalom, Eli."

With that he backed away, two guards instantly by his side. The two women watched him retreat, staying only for a few seconds before Ziva set out to go back to her car. Eliana followed her. Their car ride back to the apartment started out equally silent as it had in the other direction. This time, however, it was Eliana who broke first, voicing the question that had been bothering her ever since her return.

"Who is your father to you, Ziva?", she asked in one long breath, hoping that she wasn't overstepping her boundaries once again.

Ziva's head briefly turned to her, their eyes briefly meeting. She swallowed. "After you were gone…", she started, blinking once against the lights from oncoming cars, "He was not much of a father to us. He was much more the commanding officer of an army preparing for battle. And after Tali-" Ziva's voice gave in.

Eliana sighed. "He did not keep his promises, indeed."

"But he is trying to be a grandfather now", Ziva added.

"So I have noticed", Eliana said, a small smile on her face. "And also trying to be a father now?"

Ziva released a small breath. "We are the only ones left to each other."


	34. Leaving Marks

**Chap 34 Leaving Marks **

**Saturday, April 10****th**** 2021**

Ziva was dressed in her running attire when she stepped into the kitchen to fill her bottle with water and leave Tony a note that she would get breakfast on her way home. She was deeply lost in thought and in patches of memories from her dreams, when someone's presence jumped at her from the corner of her eye.

"Old habits die hard", Eliana remarked simply, pointing at the clock above the stove that gleamed with the number six. She was sitting at the kitchen table. "Boker tov."

"Boker tov", Ziva replied absently, hitting the faucet while scanning the shelf above the sink for a pen.

"I took the liberty of making coffee", Eliana continued, causing Ziva to notice the pot on the counter and the mug cradled in her mother's hand.

Ziva nodded and took a piece of paper out of the drawer to her left, briefly reminding herself to clean out the mess in it. For some reason the drawers with post-its and ballpens and paper clips in them always were a mess. Ziva moved to scribble down her message just to realize halfway through that she could just as well tell the person that already appeared wide awake.

"Can you-", she started, sighing and crumbling up the paper in her fist, "Can you tell Tony that I will take care of breakfast?"

"Of course."

Ziva nodded again. Her mouth briefly gaped with the letter _'T'_, but her voice just never managed to sound out a full _'todah'_.

"I intend to pay you back for all of your expenses on account of my staying here", Eliana spoke up again, preventing Ziva from simply breezing past her. "I have arranged a meeting with one of my contacts for today, so I can convert some of my assets-

"Oh no, no. You definitely will not do that", Ziva cut in, turning around to glare at her. "You will stay right here. You will not leave here without Tony or myself as your backup."

"Ziva, I can-", Eliana started, but the obstinate glisten in her daughter's eyes stopped her. "Alright then."

Ziva shook her head. "And you do not have to pay us back to begin with", she added, her voice softer than before.

This time it was Eliana who nodded her head. Ziva was just about to leave again, when she was called back again. "Ziva?"

"Yes?"

Eliana got up from her chair, abandoning the mug on the table. Standing before her now, Ziva realized that Eliana was about the same height as her. It seemed strange, actually. She had only ever known her mother as towering over her, like a protective shadow.

"I would like to ask your permission to approach Tali and David", she requested slowly, trying not too hard to conceal the hopeful glisten in her eyes.

Ziva raised her eyebrows. "About what?"

"In general", Eliana replied. "I know that you have every right to treat me however you see fit. But they look up to you, Ziva. You are their mother. They will emulate you. They will not just approach me by themselves. They will not come to me, so I would like to come to them. But if you do not wish them to have a relationship with me, then I will do nothing of the sort."

For a moment Ziva could only stare at her. This was, if all else failed, about trying to be a grandmother to her children. "Of course", she said then, blinking. "Of course you can."

"Thank you", Eliana answered, a smile twisting her lips. "Thank you for doing this. All of this."

"There is no need to thank me. This is my duty."

"As a-"

"As an NCIS Agent", Ziva clarified quickly. "Please don't forget to let Tony know."

With that she was out the door.

* * *

><p>Tali was still sleeping peacefully, smack dab in the middle of their bed, when Tony threw on a pair of sweat pants and a shirt to go downstairs. He had the knowing suspicion that Eliana might be very similar to Ziva when it came to sleeping patterns and he balked at the extreme awkwardness of turning up in front of his mother-in-law - or whatever she was to him - covered only in a pair of mid-morning boxers. Unsurprisingly then, he did find their house guest sitting at the kitchen table when he entered. She greeted him brightly, motioning towards the coffee pot. Tony mumbled a reply and poured himself a mug before sitting down across from her. He offered her a grateful nod as soon as he had gulped down the first sip.<p>

"Ziva asked me to tell you that she will get breakfast", Eliana informed him. She studied him closely, the amusement caused by his demeanor leaving a smile on her face. Thus far she had only ever witnessed the work-side of Tony DiNozzo, the man of her daughter's life. Seeing him like this, only gradually restocked with life, it cleared things up for her a little bit. "She is out-"

"Running", Tony finished, blinking at her over the rim of his mug.

"Something she does every morning, I take it?"

"All that pent-up energy has to go somewhere. Running's the most flexible, though, with the kids and all", Tony replied and, deeming this topic innocent enough to elaborate on, allowed a wistful smile to settle on his face. "When they were babies she would strap them into one of these baby carrier thingies and take them along. Cute as it gets."

Eliana smiled at the images that obviously accompanied Tony's memory. Maybe, someday, she would really get to see pictures such as those. "What about you?"

"I'm clearly not that much of a morning person", he quipped, winking at the black liquid in his mug. "I throw in a few hours at the gym after work when I have the time."

"So, no joint activities when it comes to sports?"

Tony laughed slightly at the suggestion, remembering a few attempts at joining their separate sporting endeavors and how terribly they had failed. "Ziva's more outdoorsy. If she could, she'd probably run all year long. It took a broken arm to get her to change to indoors last winter."

Eliana frowned. "She broke her arm?"

Tony couldn't help but wordlessly stare at her for a moment. He appreciated Eliana's concerned tone, but for some reason he could only perceive it as a very forced, very wrongful comment. Ziva re-breaking her arm a few months back certainly wasn't the one story in his partner's life that deserved the most concern, from a mother no less.

"Slipped on the icy sidewalk", he explained simply. "It didn't really break. She strained an old injury. Didn't keep her from doing more close combat training again."

"With a broken arm", Eliana added dryly.

"It wasn't really broken", Tony held, unable to keep from laughing at himself for literally repeating Ziva's argument, and so readily. "She refused to get a full cast, so she had to promise me to train single-handed. By February she had beaten most of the guys at the NCIS gym only using her good right arm."

Eliana gaped at him, the similarities between Ziva and Eli in this little story stunning her into silence. If this was who Ziva had become, so much like Eli in his early years, she could only guess at the kind of training he must have subjected her to.

Tony interpreted her silence as disbelief, adding, "That's Ziva for you."

Eliana would have liked to stay on topic. Tony certainly seemed more forthcoming and ready to give her more than the small crumbs of insight into Ziva's life that she had gathered thus far. She was willing to test just how far he would let her in before his defenses against this approach to her daughter's life would blow up into her face. She guessed that she wouldn't get very far anyway. However, she didn't get a chance to try. Only a moment later soft footsteps announced another presence and soon David was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, surveying its occupants with drowsy suspicion. Eliana felt his probing eyes on her only for a fleet second, before he stepped over to his father. Tony opened his arms slightly and David fell sideways against him, rubbing his eyes.

Tony draped his arms around his son, a smile on his face. "Ready to be awake?"

"Morning", he mumbled in response, perching himself halfway on Tony's lap. "Where's mom?"

Tony simply pointed at the clock and David nodded. "She'll be back soon."

"She get breakfast?"

"Yep. And then we're off to the mall."

David let out an irritated grunt. "Do we hafta?", he asked, turning his head a little to offer Tony his most endearing look of misery. He wasn't quite as capable with the proverbial 'puppy dog eyes' as his sister, but he usually managed well enough when it came to his parents.

Tony couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, we have to. You need new shin pads and there's no time like the present."

David narrowed his eyes, reminding both Tony and Eliana instantly of who his mother was. "Can't we just stay in and play? Mom promised."

Tony smiled away his son's attempt at diversion. "If I recall correctly, she promised you and your sister we'd play in the evening."

"Then you recall wrong", David countered and took a step away from his father, so Tony could appreciate the full scope of the eight-year-old's matter-of-fact pose.

"Do we really have to get your mom to settle this?"

"Get me to settle what?", Ziva cut in, entering the kitchen with two bags in hand. Evidently, they had been too immersed in their discussion to hear the front door.

"Can we not go to the mall today and stay in and play like you promised?", David launched himself on his mother, staring up at Ziva with his best DiNozzo eyes.

"He's good", Tony quipped, turning up beside Ziva and grading his son's expression.

Ziva accepted his morning kiss with a small scowl and handed him the bags before focusing back on her son. "You need new equipment and we can finally start to look into redecorating your room", she reasoned, crouching down before David. "I thought you wanted to have new things?"

David looked at her for a moment, weighing her arguments. Then he shook his head. "I don't need new things now", he declared. "I'd rather we just stay here and play like you promised." He put added emphasis on the last three words. After all, he was well aware that his mother took promises very seriously, and there was no better tactic to go about this.

Ziva pursed her lips, distorting the smile she felt coming on at his insistence. She reached out to put a hand on his cheek. "I promised we would play in the evening, remember?", she said. "Also, on our way back we will go by Tommy's house and see what you missed in school the past two days. You can use the weekend to catch up on your homework, yes?"

David stared into his mother's eyes and pondered what she had just said. Realizing that he wouldn't win that argument, he nodded his head. Ziva offered him a sympathetic smile and opened her arms a little, the eight-year-old readily stepping forward and into her morning embrace.

Turning his head sideways on her shoulder, he asked in a half-whisper, "Can you help me with homework when I get stuck 'cause I missed school so much?"

"Of course, tateleh", Ziva assured him and pulled back a little so she could plant a kiss on the side of his head.

From her position she could see Eliana over her son's shoulder, still sitting at the kitchen table. And she was smiling at her.

* * *

><p>While David and Tony dished up breakfast, the little boy steadfastly ignoring Eliana's helping hand, Ziva went upstairs to take a shower. When she returned downstairs with Tali in tow, breakfast didn't go over much dissimilar than dinner had the night before. They were far from any kind of ease. Tali was her usual morning-mumbling self and David focused on his cereal, only occasionally looking up to answer Ziva's or Tony's questions. It was only after they had taken their time to get ready and were standing in the foyer, Tony having just won the argument about taking his Mustang instead of Ziva's Mini, that Ziva offhandedly announced that they would split up at the mall.<p>

"So, us guys, we'll get David's stuff at the sports store", Tony deduced, opening the front door. "And you ladies?"

"Clothing, for Eliana", Ziva declared nonchalantly.

Eliana's eyebrows shot up at once. "Ziva, that is not necessary."

She was standing at the back, close to the door to the living room. Neither Tony, nor Ziva had given her any indication as to whether she was to stay at the apartment for the time of their trip or expected to accompany them. She had yet to put on her shoes, waiting for any kind of pointer, a sign or directional remark; feeling strangely apprehensive to just outright ask them. However, she had never expected the very indicator to secure her stance to be like this.

"You need more than a quarter of a duffel bag", Ziva insisted as she crouched on the floor to help Tali with her jacket, her eyes barely meeting Eliana's.

"It is all I have and all I need."

"I know the life where all you have and all you need fits into a small bag", Ziva countered, finally getting up from the floor and fixing her mother with a glare. "And that is not the kind of living we do here."

"Sports and clothes it is", Tony concluded quickly, sensing the rise of tension in the foyer. Eliana was obviously not finished arguing her point, but Ziva had made up her mind and he didn't want the older woman to find out on a Saturday morning that she would never win that argument. "What's it gonna be, princess? Sports or clothes?", he inquired, turning to his daughter.

"Mommy", Tali declared, grabbing Ziva's hand.

"You sure? The store at the mall just got a new simulation program to try out all kinds of crazy sports stuff", he said, smiling mischievously.

Tali tilted her head a little to the side, evidently considering her options for a few moments. Then she shook her head. "Mommy."

"Just admit defeat, Tony", Ziva quipped, smirking at her partner as she ushered the kids outside.

Jabbing the elevator button, Tony snorted. "The clothes department is much closer to the toy and the pet stores. I don't stand a chance."

"But it is you who she has wrapped around her finger", Ziva countered, her eyes narrowed playfully.

Tony just smiled. "I'm not wrapped around anybody's finger. I'm a free agent, you know?"

"Sure you are", she whispered, her eyes pointedly roaming the inside of the elevator, packed with their family - and Eliana.

* * *

><p>After they had split up at the entrance of the mall, the crowd of Saturday morning shoppers washed them along with its ebb and flow. It took Ziva at least another hour before Eliana had adjusted her senses to the bustle around her. It was obvious that Eliana was not at all comfortable and Ziva realized that she must have stayed far, far away from places like these all these years. Tali, however, was instantly enamored with every third store window and thus they were sauntering slowly about as the little girl led the way, occasionally demanding Ziva's input. It was only when Ziva could see Eliana's eyes divert to something other than her immediate surroundings that she decided to seek out appropriate clothing stores more proactively.<p>

Not that Ziva wasn't alert and consciously aware of her surroundings; to which she, admittedly, was much more accustomed in any case. She was well aware that this was as much an outing akin to a protection detail as any other detail on the job. But she also remembered her orders and, as per Ducky's profile, crowds were a safe enough place to be in since Kadeer wouldn't likely tend to act among and through them.

They had breezed through the first few stores without looking much at anything at all while Eliana still tried to safeguard her point of not needing anything. However, she could only maintain her stance for so long before Ziva's irritated glaring became too obvious to provoke any longer. In about the fourth store since their arrival she finally caved.

"How does this work?", she asked meekly, fixing Ziva with her eyes.

"You just take what you like, you try it on and if you still like it, we take it", Ziva explained quickly.

Eliana frowned. "I am not sure I know what I like."

Ziva was on the verge of answering when Tali tugged on her sleeve, beckoning her to bow down to her level. Up until now Tali had remained remarkably silent around Eliana, so Ziva got down on one knee and Tali leaned in to whisper into her ear. Eliana watched the smile spread on Ziva's face and her nod, her hand stroking over Tali's curls as she got back up.

"If you want, you just go into one of the changing rooms and Tali and I will bring you clothes that you might like."

Eliana stared at her for a moment, but then decided to incline her head to look at the little girl. "Thank you."

The five-year-old instantly took a step towards her mother, but a coy smile flittered across her face nonetheless. So, for the next hour Ziva and Tali browsed through the selections of the store. It took them a while to figure out sizes and general taste directions, but by the time it was getting exhausting, they had already amassed quite a number of items.

"This, mommy", Tali said, pointing at a simple combination of white blouse and a light brown leather jacket.

Ziva took a look at it. "We already have quite a lot of clothes for her, tateleh", she cautioned, looking down at her daughter.

"This one's special", the five-year-old insisted.

"Why so?"

"I like it when you wear it like that", she stated.

Ziva laughed slightly. "You do?" Tali nodded. "Okay, then this will be the last one."

Ziva took Tali's hand and together they walked to the back of the store, a familiar path by now. Ziva mumbled something in Hebrew, then carefully slipped the curtain to the side just far enough to hand Eliana the new pieces. However, Eliana had apparently just changed out of a different top as she reached out to take them from Ziva, inadvertently showing off her bare left forearm to her daughter. Ziva noticed the patchy scar tissue right away, intimately recognizing it as the vestige of heavy burns.

"War wounds", Eliana remarked with a small smile before withdrawing her arm from sight.

Ziva realized that, much like herself, Eliana tended to cover her scars with clothing. Luckily, Ziva didn't have extensive scars on her arms; her legs and back were a different story and her torso allowed only for some cleavage cuts, disallowing others. She wasn't the only one with scars, though. She realized that as well. For a moment she held the reflection of Eliana's gaze in the mirror. No, others had wounds too, and scars to tell their stories. Yet, she didn't yet feel ready to act on them.

* * *

><p>Tony and David had been in the middle of their second set of simulation tennis when Tony's phone had started buzzing against his chest and Ziva's voice had told him that they were on their way back to find them. They had barely stepped out of the store, however, when Tony almost ran into a familiar face.<p>

"DiNozzo."

"McCadden", Tony greeted upon recognizing the man, shaking his hand.

Homicide Detective Philip McCadden; a friend from years ago when they had worked a few cases together and found familiarity in a similar love for the movies. They had lost sight of each other over the years. Tony faintly remembered running into him a few years back when David had still been a toddler.

"Is that David?", McCadden asked, his eyes falling on the eight-year-old. "All grown up, eh?"

David merely smiled, not recognizing that man at all. "You say it", Tony replied, finding little else to add to that.

But McCadden's smile persisted. "Where's your better half? You're still with Ziva, aren't you?"

"I am, I most certainly am", Tony said, a smile now also playing on his lips as he spotted her a few feet away. "Incoming actually."

McCadden whirled around, noticing Tali holding onto Ziva's hand. "You got a little girl as well?"

"Yes, I do", Tony confirmed, unable to keep obvious pride from mixing in with his voice.

"And that's Ziva's mother?", he went on, noticing Eliana.

It was weird for Tony to hear that sentence, from a strange mouth and in such offhand circumstances. It was very weird, actually. "Is it that obvious?"

"Totally the same eyes."

Tony nodded, his mind blanking for a moment. "Yeah, she's, you know, been busy for the last couple of years. Mossad, like Ziva."

All of a sudden Tony came to realize that they probably should get their official stories straight on the issue of Eliana's presence and overall existence. Otherwise they were sure to get entangled and strangled by the ropes and ropes of lies and half-truths one day. They would also have to account for what the kids might say about their long-lost grandmother.

McCadden offered him a strangely hollow laugh. "One big happy family."

"McCadden", Ziva said, reaching out her hand when they came to a halt in front of them.

"Ziva David", he greeted, smiling at her. "I was just saying how much you and your mother look alike."

Ziva glanced at Eliana, not willing to dwell on that comment too much. "Eliana David, Detective Philip McCadden", she introduced as they shook hands as well.

"Captain, actually", he corrected her.

Ziva's smile bothered Tony. He knew he had no reason whatsoever to ever fear Ziva's infidelity. There was something fatefully shared in their relationship, nothing that could have been easily and abruptly replaced by any other person in either one of their lives. Still, he felt strangely possessive when it came to her and particularly with people who he knew had voiced their interest in his woman before, even if that interest had been voiced at a time when she had not yet been _his_ woman.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks", he said. "Well, I gotta run. Was great seeing you."

"Yeah, you too."

They watched him leave, his back merging with the crowd, before they set out for the parking lot in unison.

"A friend?", Eliana asked.

"Acquaintance", Tony corrected.

"What's the difference?", David inquired.

"How much you want or don't want to meet them by chance at the mall or any other place in the universe", Tony explained with a wink.

* * *

><p>Following a quick poll in the car they had quickly chosen their lunch venue, once again making sure not to go for the most remote place, but to keep with the crowd. On a Saturday morning that was not a hard thing to accomplish. Once again, just like inside the mall, Eliana looked strangely out of place. She was weighted down by three bags, her auburn eyes yet again working overtime, roaming the premises. Tony and Ziva both took notice, but this time it was Tony who sprang into action, pointedly asking her to secure a table while he would get their food, and skillfully reciting a more relatable version of the food selection for her to choose from as he did so.<p>

During lunch Ziva well noticed how Tali was less talkative than usual and pointedly addressing either her, Tony or David with her stories and questions so as not to make eye contact with Eliana. Still, the little girl was getting curious, there was no denying it. Much like years ago when Tony had returned, Tali was gradually shifting into the testing phase. Whenever Eliana wasn't looking, Tali would shoot her curious glances, scanning her, observing her. Whenever something was said at the table her eyes quickly flickered to Eliana, testing her reaction. Ziva wasn't sure what exactly Tali was making of Eliana's generally reticent demeanor, but Eliana's smiles had become noticeably more radiant over the past few days. They were now much closer to the smiles Ziva remembered from her childhood. That, she knew, would score big time with her daughter. David, on the other hand, was still full-out ignoring the fact that there were five people sitting around the table now. That worried Ziva much more than anything else.

After lunch they finally went to look at furniture stores. Tony and Ziva had promised David a makeover of his room more than a month ago, figuring it would be the last remodeling before they planned on getting a bigger apartment anyway. Tony quickly led them to the furniture and decoration sections, pointedly avoiding the DIY department for reasons that had caused him to secure Gibbs' involvement in any future makeover project very early on. They were only looking now, getting ideas, but Tony and Ziva made very conscious mental notes of the desk with drawing board that David spent more than fifteen minutes admiring. After all, his birthday was coming up.

On the way home they stopped over at Tommy's house. Knowing how important that was to her son and how it was their fault that he had missed school at all, Ziva had talked to Tommy's mother, Rebecca, the day before. Rebecca had assured them that Tommy would get all that David would need to keep up with classwork. Tommy's mother had been a single mom for a little over two years, ever since her husband, a Metro P.D. officer, had been killed in the line of duty. Ziva had always found her a very easy person to talk to, much unlike most of the other mothers. Chatting with her at the door, Ziva briefly considered bringing up the problems that she suspected their sons were having, but despite having little to go on in the first place, it didn't feel like the right thing to do.

The rest of their afternoon went by in much less of a staccato manner. David spent most of it doing his homework with Ziva at the kitchen able, while Tony occupied Tali and the little girl occupied herself later on when Tony had to finish some paperwork. Minding her promise, Ziva later went upstairs to get the game Tali and David had chosen after spending the entire dinner negotiating with each other. She had been instructed to get it from the top shelf in Tali's room. There, however, she couldn't help but notice that Shim no longer resided on the nightstand beside her daughter's bed, but had apparently and consciously been relocated to share a space with all the other stuffed animals Tali possessed, lined up against the far wall.

Ziva stilled for a moment. She was jerked from her thoughts, however, when Eliana turned up in the doorframe to Tali's room. Somehow she had managed to stay almost invisible all afternoon, only resurfacing when she had heard the clanging of pans and had offered a hand in making dinner. Ziva swiftly raised her eyebrows at her mother and, shaking her thoughts from her mind, reached up on the shelf for the box.

"Thank you for today", Eliana said softly, her hands folded in front of her body. "That was much more than duty."

Ziva looked at her for a moment, then nodded her head. She knew there were things to say, maybe, but she didn't say them. Instead, Eliana moved a little to the side, taking the hint, and Ziva stepped around her to go downstairs.

* * *

><p>The kids were already fast asleep in their own beds when Tony entered their bedroom to find Ziva sitting up on her side of the bed and reading a book. Tony checked twice to see if it was really a book this time and not a photo album, but it was. She had obviously just started it, too, and for some reason that made him feel relieved. He got in beside her, lying on his back with his arms folded beneath his head, just staring at the ceiling for a while.<p>

"Want to tell me why you felt a sudden urge to go all _Project Runway_ on Eliana today?", he asked eventually, not looking at her yet.

Ziva couldn't say that she was particularly familiar with the reference, but she got the gist of it. "She needed clothes, Tony. You saw her bag", she replied, not lifting her eyes either.

"So what?", Tony retorted. "What do you care if she isn't dressed to the nines for sitting behind a desk at NCIS?"

Tony had moved his head to the side now, fixing her with his eyes. Ziva pressed her lips into a thin line before inclining her head to look at him. "It was like seeing myself, sixteen years ago and again twelve years ago when I returned home", she admitted. "Coming into this strange new world and realizing how different you are, realizing that you do not fit."

"I get that", he said softly. "But why is it important she fit?"

Ziva held his gaze for a moment longer, but then turned her attention back to the book. She offered him a small shrug and Tony resigned himself to leaving it at that for now.

"Do you know what meeting McCadden made me realize?", he went on instead.

"That we have to get our stories straight about Eliana", Ziva replied absently, adding upon his surprised look, "I overheard what you told him."

"That was okay, right?"

"I think we can stick to her being Mossad", Ziva said, blinking a few times too many for Tony to take it as a statement that was coming easy to her. "It is not like many people know about my father, or have seen him for that matter. It is not a lie to say that their biological grandparents have not been too involved in their lives thus far."

Tony snorted. "Senior showing up right now would just put the cherry on top."

"His timing usually is as impeccable as that", Ziva retorted.

She particularly remembered his impromptu visit in September 2011. They had just found out about her pregnancy and had still been engulfed in a veil of trying to cope with that fact. They had barely decided to wait with telling the team until at least the first fifteen weeks had passed, when Senior had barged in one day and bluntly asked Ziva who the lucky guy was in front of Gibbs, McGee and Abby.

"But he was only just here in November. He usually gets in at least half a year before making his next move."

Without looking up, Ziva reached over and gently placed a hand on his cheek. She completed the paragraph she was reading, before marking the page and lowering her eyes into his. "Eliana asked for my permission today."

"For what?"

"For trying to build a relationship with our kids, I think."

Tony's eyebrows rose and he propped himself up on the side, looking at her curiously. "She wants to be a grandmother. That's good, right?"

"Is it?"

"It's good, Ziva", he insisted. "I don't know if it shows, but I don't particularly like Eli-"

"I do not think you keep that secret too well, Tony."

"But I'm glad he is trying as a grandfather. Let's face it, Senior's proven to be lacking in that department."

Tony couldn't deny that a part of him might have hoped that he and Senior would get another shot at a relationship with the kids in the picture, but for now he was holding out. Senior wouldn't change; that was probably the wrong hope to secretly harbor. For now, however, that was barely translating into any kind of grandfatherly presence either.

"He is not around much, though. And they have Gibbs and Ducky-"

"But we don't have any substitutes around for grandmothers, Ziva. Anyway, you gave her your blessing, so you're thinking the same thing." Tony grinned at her.

"Did I?"

"You did", he repeated knowingly. "And before you ask, yes, I'm okay with that."

She returned his smile. "I am glad."

Tony nodded, lifting his hand to brush a few strands of hair behind her ear and keeping himself from asking about how she was doing on the subject of Eliana. "Do you know what else I realized meeting McCadden?"

"What?"

"That I love you. I love you, I love our kids, and I love the life we made for ourselves", he said, staring into her eyes. "I love that he corrected you saying that he was Captain now and I not once thought about following that up with telling him I'm Supervisory Agent now, because I was too busy realizing how lucky a guy I am. If things show for themselves, you know, there's no need to show off anymore."

Ziva moved closer to him. Maybe it was his life among movies, but Tony had a knack for symbolism, for meaning and saying much with few words, regardless of his reputation. He wasn't his reputation, Ziva had realized that early into their relationship.

"And how lucky I am that you are willing to put up with all the complications that I bring to your life", she added.

"Far outweighed by the happiness, Ziva", he said, running the back of his fingers over the side of her face. "And I've never been one for easy."

At the end of the day Ziva leaned in and kissed him, if only for the memories that line elicited in her heart.


	35. Stepping through the Frame

**Chap 35 Stepping through the Frame **

**Sunday, April 11****th**** 2021**

Tony's eyes roamed the utter silence of the apartment. Yes, this was what a Sunday morning was supposed to look like. He was sitting on the couch beside Ziva, looking through case files. Ziva, on the other hand, was wrapped up in what he still considered an art form: the art of writing an email in Hebrew. He had often attempted starting Hebrew classes. The thought alone of Ziva tutoring him was making him feel tingly inside. But seriously. David was on track to become fluent in Hebrew one day, and so was Tali. He had felt a particular push to finally go through with it following his permanent return from Spain. He had wanted to make every effort to fit back in with his family.

However, between work, family and the inkling of a social life, spare time was scarce and Ziva had quite vehemently assured him that he just had to find his own way of dealing with it, if it was really that important to him. Since then, he'd taken to rousing the kids' interest in Spanish: If it was daddy's time for goodnight stories, Tali had a selection of Spanish books he could read from. Likewise, David might have been getting too old for the nighttime story approach, but some of their father-son-outings would take them to see Spanish screen extravaganzas or visit an old friend of Tony's who had polished his own Spanish back in the day at Baltimore and again before his stint in Rota. He was treading lightly, of course, not wanting to confuse either of them. Yet, come to think of it, he would have never thought that languages would play even that big a role in his life at any point, but sharing that life with Ziva had successfully changed his outlook on the future any way you turned it.

He dipped his head a little to the side to smile at the woman beside him, finding the concentrated look on her face most endearing.

"You are ogling", she stated, not lifting her eyes from her computer screen.

"That I am", he confirmed, leaning over to capture her lips.

She smiled against him as his hand moved to the side of her face, keeping her in place. She lingered for a while before finally pulling back, a seductive glisten in her eyes. "Was last night not enough for you?"

Tony laughed triumphantly. "It was, Ms. David. Twice, as I remember correctly", he said, grinning. "Just wanted to reaffirm that."

Ziva patted his cheek, her fingers gently running along his mid-morning stubble, smiling. "I am writing to my father", she said, indicating the half-finished massage on her screen.

Tony tilted his head, moving into her touch. "Killjoy."

Ziva chuckled and swiftly caught the corner of his lips again. "I hate to be."

"We haven't honored date night in quite a while", he observed.

"Oh, that name", she groaned and rolled her eyes for show rather than real annoyance.

"What, date night?", Tony repeated, faintly recalling her aversion. "Right, you don't appreciate the wording. What was it, though? _Nuit de l'amour_?"

Ziva smirked. "That is what you suggested, Tony. I just think that _'date night'_ sounds so… Forced. It is not a dentist's appointment."

Tony could have come up with a few instant jokes to affix to that statement, not least among them ones that involved drilling. But he chose not to go for it. "What do you think about the idea in general, though?"

Ziva's forehead creased in wrinkles. "Our lives are a bit complicated right now."

"Never stopped us before."

"I do not like this any more than you do", she assured him, running a hand through his hair. "But you have to admit that now is not a good time to think about a night out alone. We still have April 23rd."

The grin that had briefly slipped from Tony's face was instantly returned to full grandeur. "That we have", he confirmed as his mind went to the small case at the back of a less frequented drawer in his closet, buried beneath an assortment of old pants, that safely contained her present.

With another kiss they finally returned to their respective activities, but Tony couldn't concentrate. Instead, he did what he always did when concentration turned fickle: He just kept watching and observing Ziva. When she had returned from the pool earlier today, she had found a message from Eli in her inbox informing her that he had had his IT-specialists open a secure address for her to write to. The Eliana-matter was too delicate to discuss on the phone or via other, more routine channels, but that way they were free to talk. Tony had to give the man credit for trying, he really did.

After a while he got up and went upstairs to go to the bathroom, where he was alerted to the faint ray of light visible through the crack under David's door. Tony stepped up and listened for a moment, but all was quiet. Gently pushing down on the doorknob, Tony opened it and peeked inside. David was sitting at his desk, only his desk lamp on. He was drawing.

"Morning, buddy", Tony greeted, closing the door behind him so they wouldn't wake Tali in the adjacent room.

David's head turned. "Morning, dad."

"Since when are you up?"

"A while."

"Why didn't you come downstairs? Your mom and I could've made you breakfast."

David shrugged. Tony kneeled down beside his chair and looked up at his son, finding, to his loving amusement, the same concentrated look on his son's face that he had just witnessed on Ziva's a few minutes ago. The whole setup, however, was odd. David usually took full advantage of his morning hours, especially on Sundays. Tali, having been allowed to stay up late the night before, easily slept two hours longer on average than he did and it usually gave them some time to talk over breakfast, just he and Ziva and David.

"What's that?", Tony asked then, indicating the drawing David was working on.

Ever since the Rikers Case and Ziva's accident they had learned to pay much closer attention to David's drawings. David, in a way, was speaking through them, even if he chose not to talk to them about something yet. Besides that, Tony had to admit that his drawings were getting exceptionally good for an eight-year-old, and he wasn't just saying that because David was his kid.

"A dream I had", the little boy stated nonchalantly, changing pens.

"You want to talk about it?"

David shook his head.

"You wanna talk about something else?", Tony continued, getting up from the floor and proceeding to sit on the edge of David's bed, fixing his eyes on his son's back.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Like your grandma sleeping in the other room?"

David put the pen down again, browsing the selection of drawing utensils lying open in front of him on the desk. "She's not my grandma."

Tony nodded. "Fair enough. Eliana then."

"What about her?"

"I don't know", Tony repeated. "What about her don't you like?"

David finally turned around to face his dad, abandoning his work for the time being. His forehead creased in wrinkles. "Who says I don't like her?"

Tony tilted his head to the side, a pointed smile straddling his face. "You do, buddy."

"I don't know her", the eight-year-old corrected.

"That's entirely true."

"It's hard to like somebody you don't know, right?"

"Right."

David thought about his next words for a moment. "Do I have to like her?", he asked.

Tony shook his head. "That's totally up to you. Your mom and I want you to decide that for yourself. Don't let anybody ever tell you who you can or cannot like, okay? That's always your choice to make."

David slowly nodded his head in understanding.

"But then, to find out if you like somebody, you first have to give them a chance." Tony's smile persisted, a knowing edge in his voice.

David shrugged his shoulders. "Mom doesn't smile as much when she's around. I don't like that. Even with Saba Eli it was different. Mom didn't smile much then, but he always made her smile."

Tony couldn't help but shake his head, himself feeling a smile coming on. David was amazingly observant, and sensitive about changes in their behavior, changes to the norm that was his family. He was right, though. With Eli it was different. It was hard to draw up comparisons, sure, but Eli did have his ways to make Ziva smile, if he was trying hard enough. In Tony's humble opinion, Eli had proven to be a veritable asshole for most of Ziva's life, but he was a part of her no matter what. That was a fact; the very fact that kept Ziva going back, all the time, trying again. Eli might not have been around much during her childhood and most of her adulthood, and he might have been a ruthless and exacting bastard, but, for better or worse, he knew his daughter. Eliana didn't. Eliana didn't know Ziva and, put simply, had no idea what made her daughter smile.

"She's not trying hard enough, is she?"

David nodded. "She's s'posed to be a mom to our mom. But she's not. She's not like mom is to me and Tali."

"But that's different, David. Your mom-"

"Wouldn't just go away and lie to us 'bout it."

Tony stared at his son. Sometimes David simply fascinated him. The little boy wasn't held back by not knowing Eliana. Tony had seen it before. David was very well capable of interacting with people he didn't know, and willing to; with adults often more so than with kids his age. He just didn't like Eliana on principle, because it was Ziva who she had hurt, his mom, his personal superhero.

"You have to cut her some slack, buddy", Tony tried again. "She had a very important job to do. It hurt your mom that she left, yes. That doesn't mean that Eliana liked doing what she did. Her job needed to be done."

"And it was more important than mom was?", David argued.

It wasn't easy arguing with his son's logic - a good, sensitive logic at that - on only half of the facts. Tony would have liked to say that Eliana made a big sacrifice, sacrificing motherhood for her children's safety. She had caused pain, a lot of pain, and she had set up her daughter for having to sacrifice so much of herself over the years that it was barely commensurable. But this was what they had to deal with; even if the word 'job' had recently become the throwaway euphemism for most of the details to Eliana's story.

"You know how your mom and I, and Uncle Tim and all the others. How we work to keep you safe? And not only you, but a lot of other people as well? Even people that we don't know?", Tony tried.

David nodded, remembering all the conversations they had had in the past about that. "Yeah."

"That's the kind of job Eliana had. She tried to protect your mom and her siblings from bad men."

For a moment it felt very odd for Tony to plead Eliana's cause so eagerly. But he just needed to try and catalyze the process, if their children were ever to have a grandmother. He had grown up in circumstances where there had not been a single woman around to look up to: His mother was dead, his grandmothers he had never met. In fact, he had grown up with an utter lack of good role models. Senior had hardly ever been around. Tony couldn't help but think that if he'd had women to look up to, even an Aunt or one of his dad's longtime flings - maybe his life could have been different. Maybe, yes, he and Ziva would have tried sooner. Who knew?

David thought about Tony's words for a moment, watching his own feet shuffle around on the chair legs. "But you and mom always say family's the most important thing."

Tony smiled proudly. "It is."

David looked up at him, his eyes blazing with seriousness. "But not for her, dad. So, I can't like her."

Tony sighed. This wasn't going to be dealt with in one conversation anyway, and he had nothing more to add to that. He got up from his position on the bed. "Okay, then", he said, holding out his hand to his son, "How 'bout we shelf that talk and get some breakfast now?"

David nodded his head, following him downstairs. When they arrived in the kitchen, Ziva had already set the table for three and was commuting between refrigerator and stove. David instantly paddled over to her and wrapped his arms around her middle. Ziva was momentarily taken aback, but quickly recovered and put the edibles in her hand on the counter, so she was free to hug him back.

She kissed the top of his head. "Boker tov, neshomeleh."

"Morning, mommy", he mumbled, his face partially hidden in her stomach.

Ziva tilted her head a little down to study her son's face, absently drawing circles on his back. Then she lifted her questioning eyes to Tony. Tony only shook his head, telling her that they would talk about it later. It certainly didn't appease Ziva's worry as to her son's behavior towards their new living arrangement.

"Looks like you already got a head start", Tony remarked, leaning around the pair to grab the things Ziva had deposited on the counter and take over for her.

Ziva nodded. "I heard you two talking."

David dipped his head back and rolled his eyes up at her. "Pancakes?", he requested.

Ziva smiled. "Yes, if you want."

With that he finally let go of her and joined Tony at the stove, leaving Ziva to watch and ponder. During breakfast the eight-year-old talked incessantly. To Ziva and Tony it appeared almost as if the little boy was eagerly making up for his quiet partaking in the family meals as of late. He was cramming an incredible amount of stories and questions into the hour they spent sitting at the kitchen table, before Tali stumbled in and demanded, in the drowsiest and sweetest voice imaginable, to be fed as well.

* * *

><p>When Eliana did come downstairs later in the morning, David had already relocated to his bedroom, intent on finishing his latest book before they were to leave for lunch. He hadn't been reading for long, however, when he was startled by the trembling of the doorknob and his door being briskly opened and shut.<p>

David looked up from his book to glare at his little sister. "Remember what mom said about knocking?"

"That I should?", Tali retorted, smiling meekly.

"Uh huh."

"Maybe you didn't hear", she offered, her smile curling into a certified DiNozzo grin.

David ignored her comment. "What do you want, Tali?"

"I left Sid", she explained, referring to the sloth-like stuffed animal that Ducky had gotten her for her fourth birthday during her emphatic _Ice Age_ phase (a phase readily sustained by her father's co-fascination).

David placed a finger on his current page to mark it before he snapped the book shut. In one swift movement he leaned over the back of his bed to retrieve the toy in question. He handed it to his little sister, who scooped it up reverently and held it close. Satisfied, David leaned back against the wall and re-opened his book. He had barely come to the end of the next sentence, however, when he realized Tali hadn't moved an inch. He looked back up. Tali was standing there, her head tilted to the side at an acute angle, her face scrunched up in a deep frown.

"Are you mad?", she asked bluntly, fixing her big brother with her deep brown eyes.

"No, I'm not mad."

"You look mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Why do you look mad then?"

David let out an exasperated grunt, once again shutting his book. "I'm not mad, okay? I'm just not happy."

Tali took a moment to process his words, then stalked over to his bed and plopped down on the edge. "Why?"

David shrugged.

"You don't like our grandma, d'you?"

David snorted at the moniker his little sister had chosen so offhandedly for Eliana. "I don't know. I guess."

Tali nodded her head determinedly, shifting a little in her position so she could tuck both of her legs beneath her body, Sid hanging loosely from her grip. "I heard mommy and daddy talk in the kitchen and daddy said you said you don't like her."

David just stared at her for a moment. Great; so, on top of everything else, he now felt guilty that he had basically told his mom that he didn't like her mom, even if it wasn't to her face. He knew his mom worried about those things a lot and he really didn't like to worry her. It was different with his dad. His dad would just talk about the things that worried him, usually to his mom. His mom, though, she could worry about a lot of things and you'd never know.

"Do you like her?", he inquired, sincerely interested.

Tali shrugged her shoulders. "I think she's nice", she declared. "She has a really nice smile. Just like mommy."

"But mom doesn't smile much when she's around", David countered, repeating the argument he had presented to his dad earlier.

Tali pressed her lips into a thin line, pondering her brother's words. "But that's 'cause mommy's not sure she's happy 'bout it yet that she's back, 'member?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Maybe we can tell her how to make mommy happy", Tali mused, tugging her eyelids deeply over her eyes. "I know lotsa things."

"But she should know", David insisted. "Like mom and dad know 'bout us."

Tali just shrugged her shoulders. "She was away for a long time."

David sighed heavily. Sometimes Tali's straightforward answers were the best method to frustrate him. This was all coming back to him not understanding how Eliana could have left his mom and her siblings in the first place. But for some reason no one had a good enough answer to that; at least not good enough to make him understand.

"You should talk to mommy", Tali assessed, settling Sid down in her lap.

"I don't know…"

"Then talk to Uncle Gibbs", Tali tried again. "He knows things."

David smiled a little. "He does."

Tali nodded her head, satisfied with her opinion on the matter and the returned smile on her big brother's face. She was just about to move from her position on the bed, when another thought entered her mind.

"Deed?"

"Huh?"

"You think daddy's sad 'cause mommy's mommy came back and his didn't?"

David thought about that for a second. He hadn't given that much thought, though. He faintly shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"I'll go and make sure", Tali said, nodding her head determinedly, and finally hopped off the bed, leaving just as quickly and unceremoniously as she had entered.

* * *

><p>Lunch at Abby's and McGee's had ended in somewhat of a sketch show since it had been Abby's and Tony's turn to cook as per their rota system. The two of them always managed to turn cooking into more of an entertainment show for the on-looking audience. However, despite Tony's knack for voicing vegetables and Abby showing off some more or less bubbly chemical reactions of different ingredients mixed together, the food usually tasted pretty good. The kids were having a blast, and that was the most important part; especially given that they didn't see quite as much of their parents during the week as they might have liked.<p>

Afterwards, as usual, the kids had moved to set up camp in the play room. The play room was the extra room in the Sciuto-McGee household that was tacitly set aside for the idea of siblings for Liora. For now, it was stacked with Liora's toys and games, but also with quite a lot of things McGee and Abby had bought Tali and David over the years and which had been left there for whenever they visited to make use of them. Abby and Ziva, on the other hand, had relocated to the living room to talk and thus were close enough to deal with any on-hand emergency. With that in mind, McGee had set out to look for Tony, finding his boss out on the patio, staring into nothingness.

McGee stepped up beside him, bracing his hands against the railing in a similar manner as Tony. "So, how's life with Eliana?"

Tony snorted, not turning to look at his colleague and friend. "Ziva's still not sure how she feels, David is way too loyal and I feel like I keep shoving her down everybody's throat", Tony declared. "Tali's probably the only one with a longtime game plan."

McGee offered a small smile. "That sounds about right. Give it time", he suggested.

Tony shook his head, finally turning to fix McGee with his eyes. "This whole plan is ridiculous", he exclaimed, his mouth gaping. "What were we thinking? Routines my ass. How is this helping?"

"It's just a plan, Tony. We don't have a better one-"

"We're sitting on a frickin' time bomb, Tim", Tony half-laughed and half-cried, his arms flailing about. "And I can't stop thinking that neither Ziva nor I agreed to this just to get Kadeer."

McGee studied Tony's expression, his eyes narrowed. "So what?"

Tony slumped back against the railing, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What if Eliana does die in all of this? What if he gets to her? All this crap for nothing."

"Not nothing, Tony. Then you tried", McGee insisted. "Come on, you would think that after years of _not_ trying the two of you, of all people, would know there's value to these things."

Tony tilted his head to the side, a grin tugging on his lips. He poked a finger at the air in front of McGee's chest. "Good one, McPointed."

"I thought so." McGee smiled, turning back to look out into the afternoon.

Tony sighed and mirrored his friend's position once again. "Seriously, Tim, I have no idea what's going to happen. It's really anybody's guess."

McGee nodded, smacking his lips. "I don't know what to say to that", he admitted. "But I heard that _'We're here when you need us'_ works pretty well."

Tony smiled slightly. "Yeah, it does."

* * *

><p>Back inside Abby was handing the second glass of wine to Ziva before rejoining her on the couch, cradling her own mug of cocoa - a weekend drinking habit Liora had induced. The smile with which she had left for the kitchen a minute before was still playing prominently on her lips.<p>

"I do not think Tony and I really thought this through beforehand", Ziva admitted, looking into her best friend's eyes.

"Ziva, you've just spent half an hour telling me about pictures and books and your parents meeting at the airport and your shopping trip with your mom", Abby said slowly. "This is not about having thought anything through."

Ziva took a moment to realize that, yes, she had dominated their conversation thus far with her stories. "I am so sorry-"

"No", Abby cut in, reaching out a hand to place on Ziva's arm. "No, it's great. I loved hearing about it. I'm really happy for you."

Ziva chuckled slightly. "I am not sure if an assassin on the loose should make you this happy, Abby."

Abby shook her head. "This isn't about that guy. This is about you guys."

"But it is about that guy", Ziva insisted, abandoning her glass on the table. "Kadeer is out there. He is a very real threat. And here we are doing-"

"Doing what, Ziva?", Abby retorted, her smile persisting. "Kadeer is a bastard who came after our family. And we will. Kick. His butt. Like we always do. Until then, you just keep doing family. It's what we do best."

Ziva tore her eyes away from her friend and leaned back against the couch, her hands folded in her lap. "Doing family", she repeated, a small laugh untangling itself from the back of her throat.

Abby looked at her for a while, studying her. "I talked to your mom", she blurted out at once, unable to keep it in any longer. "Last Monday, before we went to Johnston's funeral? I talked to her and I told her that I'm sorry for who she's lost and that it must be hard for her being back here. But I also told her that you're worth trying her hardest for, you and Tony and the kids. I know I shouldn't have-"

"Abby", Ziva stopped her, a small smile on her lips. "Thank you."

* * *

><p>After Abby had proposed and artistically executed a game that had instantly enthralled both Liora and Tali, the five-year-old had begged her parents to stay at her Auntie's for a while longer. Caving under Tali's plea and the very comfort of her friend's apartment, Ziva and Tali had staid while Tony and David had returned home. They didn't plan on being there long, just long enough for Tony to check up on Eliana and get her to join them for dinner at Gibbs'.<p>

He and Ziva had eventually agreed with Eliana's emphatic insistence that their Sunday family time was nothing she wanted to intrude in. However, since they were just as adamant that leaving her alone at their apartment all day wasn't exactly part of the detail description, Tony convinced her to tag along anyway. He had promised David to leave early so they could try out his new equipment in Gibbs' backyard and they did, for a full two hours. Afterwards Eliana offered Tony a hand in preparing dinner since Tali and Ziva were running late in the aftermath of a longer-than-usual tea at Ducky's.

In the meantime David had settled into a familiar rhythm of silence alongside his Uncle Gibbs down in the basement. It hadn't been too hard for Gibbs to pick up on the tension sizzling between the eight-year-old and Ziva's mother. Consequently, and following Tony's unequivocal staring, he had decided to give the little boy some space in his preferred thinking place and wisely requested his help with the surprise that Tony still wasn't supposed to see. Gibbs had been noticing the lack of movement on David's part for a while, but had waited for the question to finally come; smiling when it did.

"Uncle Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

David's eyes briefly dropped to the sandpaper in his hand. "Is it wrong that I don't like my grandma?"

Gibbs looked over at the eight-year-old. Jolting his head a little to the side, he abandoned his tools on the workbench and tugged the sawing trestle out from underneath it, placing it behind David and offering him a seat with a swift nod of his head. For a moment, while the little boy tried to figure out how best to perch himself on the wooden stand, the memory of Ziva's return from Somalia invaded Gibbs' mind, their talks in the basement. That trestle had been a prop in that conversation as well. A small, lopsided smile settled on Gibbs' face. He reached up on the shelf and retrieved the bottle of juice he was keeping there for just these occasions. He emptied a jar of nails and filled it with juice, then took one of the kids' glasses - glasses he kept there just for these occasions as well - and did the same, handing it to David while keeping the other one for himself.

He leaned against the workbench and took a sip, staring at the little boy expectantly. "Why don't you like her?"

David shrugged.

"No reason?"

David looked at his Uncle Gibbs. Tali was right. Uncle Gibbs knew things. "She hurt my mom. She went away for a really long time. And mom said she was really sad about it, because she thought she'd never come back", he rattled off, barely taking a breath. "And she missed her a lot, and she felt lonely for a long time because her sister and her brother were gone too."

"You're right. Eliana hurt your mom a lot."

"That's not okay, is it?"

Gibbs shook his head vaguely. "No", his mouth gaped on the _'o'_ for a moment, "That's never okay."

"Thought so."

Gibbs offered him a small shrug. "If you don't like her, don't like her."

"That's what dad said."

"Well, he's right", Gibbs said. "But you gotta be careful, big guy."

"'Bout what?"

"There's two kinds. One kind, it's you just don't like someone and that's it."

David took a sip from his juice. "And the second one?"

"You don't like someone in the beginning, but they earn your trust in the end", Gibbs relayed, remembering many an experience with that particular coming-to-be. "But that's harder, 'cause you gotta give them a chance first."

David pressed his lips into a thin line. "Dad said I should do that."

Gibbs gave a full-hearted laugh now. "If your dad's got all the answers, what do you need me for?"

David shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "Uncle Ducky says always get a second opinion and Aunt Abby says always double-check", he explained. "And I like talking to you 'bout things."

* * *

><p>Tali and Ziva had arrived at Gibbs' place just in time for dinner. Gibbs had attracted most of the kids' attention and they had mainly focused on him, rendering that dinner at least less tense an occasion than all of their recent mealtime gatherings combined. It was late in the evening when they had finally returned home. Pre-bedtime routines were speeded up, eventually leaving only goodnight routines for Tony and Ziva. In the meantime Eliana was waiting for them downstairs so they could talk about and plan the next day, and every weekday after that. They had to establish the very routines they were going to need to regulate: joint trips to the supermarket, daily commutes to the Navy Yard, secure and supervised locations. If emotions weren't easily dealt with, neither was the rest of their plan.<p>

Tony had just delivered his goodnight kiss to his son. Before he could straighten back up and leave, however, David's question pulled him back down.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

David looked unsure for a moment. "You told mom what I told you?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at his son as he sank back down on the edge of the bed. "Was it a secret? 'Cause I thought we had our own special sign for sealing our guy secrets?"

David smiled a little. "It wasn't a secret."

"Well, you know your mom and I will tell each other these things", Tony replied.

David nodded. "I know, but… Is she mad at me now?"

"No, of course not", Tony said. "Why would she be?"

"'Cause of what I said about her mom?"

"Hey, you can have your own opinion, okay? We respect that. Your mom respects that", Tony assured him, his voice boiled down to a whisper. "She won't be mad at you for saying what you think. Actually, if you ask me, she seems quite proud of you that you look out for her so much."

David tucked his hands under his head, a small smile lingering. "You think?"

"I'm positive", Tony insisted, a grin spreading on his face. "You get that from me. We have to protect our girls, don't we?"

"Yeah, we do." David lifted his arm and bumped his dad's fist.

Tony nodded. "You just keep telling us when something's bothering you, okay?"

"Okay."

"So… Something bothering you now?", Tony teased, wiggling a finger into his son's face.

David laughed at his dad's familiar antics. "It's okay. I talked to Uncle Gibbs."

Tony frowned. "Are you going to start building boats now? 'Cause we don't have a basement, you know."

"No, I'm good", David said with a grin.

"Night, buddy." Tony leaned forward for another kiss and finally got up.

"Night."

With another glimpse at his son's pensive face Tony walked over into Tali's room, where he found Ziva leaning against the headboard and their little girl snuggled comfortably into her side. A small frown settled on his face when he noticed Shim missing from the nightstand. That hippo had been sitting on that nightstand for as long as he could remember - whenever it hadn't been in Tali's arms, that was. He was jerked from his thoughts, however, when he noticed that Ziva's voice had stopped its accomplished enactment of a dozen of different characters in their daughter's currently favorite book. She was looking up at him with her eyebrows raised questioningly, and Tali was mimicking her mother's expression so effortlessly and so unbeknownst to them both that Tony couldn't keep a smirk off of his face.

"Hey, princess. Can daddy finish the chapter for your mom?", Tony suggested, kneeling down beside his daughter's bed.

Tali perked up instantly. "Can you do the funny voice again?"

"Which one?"

"The really Bond one."

Tony and Ziva couldn't resist a chuckle. They were never quite seeing eye-to-eye on whether to let the kids watch his _James Bond_-collection or not, but despite their usual disagreement on the subject, Tony had thus far managed to introduce both of his children to enough Bond-verse knowledge to appease his cinematic conscience.

"Who's the one and only real James Bond, princess?", Tony inquired through game-master eyes while Ziva slowly untangled herself from Tali's embrace.

"Conny!", she exclaimed, her face breaking out in a proud grin.

Tony laughed and patted her head. "Good girl."

As Tony stepped around Ziva to take her place, he was met by her inquisitive frown, hidden from their daughter's view. "I think your son needs you", he whispered, before plopping down on the bed beside Tali. He swiftly dropped a kiss on her forehead and the five-year-old cuddled up to him, her small hands encircling his upper arm.

Ziva took a deep breath before bending down to give her daughter a kiss. "Layla tov."

Tali smiled. "Night, mommy."

When Ziva entered David's room, the eight-year-old was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. In the room next to them Tony's voice emerged with the most booming Scottish accent he could muster, followed by Tali's giggling.

"No book tonight?", Ziva asked as she walked into the room. David just shook his head and Ziva sat down beside him. "Hakol beseder, neshomeleh?"

"I don't know", he admitted.

Ziva took a close look at her son. From what she had heard throughout the day, David had had his share of talking and taking in advice and opinions. She would have liked for him to understand, right now, and she would have liked to be the one to make him understand and stop his worrying and stop his confusion. But it wasn't that easy, and there was no quick fix. More than that, however, she was still struggling to understand herself.

Ziva dipped her head forward. "Would you like me to read to you tonight?"

Once again, David limited his answer to shaking his head.

"Alright then", Ziva conceded and leaned over to plant a kiss on his forehead.

David took a hold of her hand before she could straighten back up, however. Looking into her eyes, and smiling somewhat shyly, he whispered, "But can you stay? Like you used to?"

A knowing smile erupted on her face. "Of course, tateleh", she said softly.

David scooted over and Ziva settled down beside him, turning onto her side so she was facing him. Pulling him close, she started to run a hand gently and repeatedly through his hair, her fingertips drawing a line from the long strands on top of his head to the base of his neck, just like she had done when he had been a baby. This had always had a special calming effect on her son. When she had been pregnant with him, David had often positioned himself with his head prominently against her abdominal wall, so that whenever she or Tony had been stroking her pregnant belly they had most often really stroked their unborn son's head; something, she firmly believed, he had remembered even after.

Looking at him now, eight years old, his eyes closed and gradually falling asleep, Ziva couldn't believe how fast he had grown up. Her baby boy, the gift she had never believed possible, had grown up into the smartest and most emotionally generous little boy she could imagine. He was still far too young to comprehend, and yet far too mature to remain oblivious.

David's breathing had evened out and he was fast asleep when Tony appeared in the doorway to his room. Tali must have fallen asleep not too long ago as well. Ziva didn't move in her position, but her eyes rolled up to meet Tony's and without a word they could see their mutual worry reflected in each other.


	36. Ticking Crocodiles

_**I don't think** I ever said this publicly, so here goes me saying this publicly: This story will be finished. Pinky promise. Actually, I'm writing the last two chapters __right now __and it will still be a while until we reach them on here. So, I will continue to post (at least) weekly updates until the very end of the end. - And now, off you go. Read. Enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 36 Ticking Crocodiles <strong>

**Monday, April 12****th**** 2021**

Eliana David was used to little sleep and waking often. When Ziva had opened the door to the study that morning, she had already been awake enough to peer back at her daughter. When Ziva had asked her to get ready soon for when she would get back from her morning run things were bound to get more hectic, Eliana had slipped into the bathroom only seconds after the front door had snapped shut. When things were picking up around her later on, Eliana made sure she blended into the background: She helped Tony set the table for breakfast, she located Ziva's backpack in the foyer, she announced the time whenever somebody asked for it. For the most part, however, she watched; she watched routines unfold and allowed herself to get lost in the memories they triggered for one or the other reason.

"Morning, princess!", Tony greeted and offered a bright smile to Tali as she hugged him from the side.

"Mommy woked me up", she mumbled, a low grunt escaping her lips.

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "We'll never get used to being woken up, will we?"

Tali shook her head decidedly. "Nope."

"I feel you", Tony replied, patting her back. "But it could be much, much worse than seeing mommy's face first thing in the morning, right?"

The five-year-old sighed and nodded, then finally lifted her head to eye her father wearily. "Dress?"

Tony chuckled at his daughter's drowsy morning cuteness and quickly led her upstairs.

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_Ziva!", she called through the darkness of the room. She flapped her hand against the wall repeatedly until it made contact with the switch and the room was suddenly engulfed in light. "Ziva?"_

"_Ima!", Ziva cried, dashing out from a corner of the room and throwing her arms around her mother._

"_It is alright, tateleh. I am here now", she soothed._

_Eli was right behind her, following her down the stairs. Ziva instantly shrunk deeper into her embrace to the sound of her father's heavy tread, causing her to turn __away __instinctively __so as to bring her body between her daughter's and her husband's._

_He eyed the pair suspiciously. "Eliana, she deserved-"_

"_She is six years old, Eli", she barked, one of her hands covering Ziva's ear. "I will never comprehend how the same man can take his daughter to the stables so she can ride the horses she loves and then do this to her."_

_Eli straightened up, squaring his shoulders. "In life we need to be just as prepared to protect the things we love."_

"_No, Eli", she argued, glaring at him. "With six all she has to do is learn of things to love."_

"_She also has to learn to do as she is told."_

_She could feel Ziva trembling against her, muffled sobs escaping her small lips. "We are leaving, Eli."_

_***…the ides of time…***_

"Do we have to go to Uncle Gibbs' again after school?", David inquired, leading a spoon full of cereal to his mouth and looking expectantly between his parents.

"No", Ziva assured him with a smile. "Sarah will pick you up and stay with you until your dad and I get home."

"Both?"

"That's the plan, buddy", Tony said.

"We promise."

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_Promise me, Eli", she said, lying in his arms, her hand placed squarely on her bulging stomach. "Promise me we will keep this child safe and protected and we will not make her part of our world."_

_He sighed. "This is not your world anymore."_

"_Promise me", she repeated, rolling her auburn eyes up to meet his._

"_How can we promise that?", he countered. "With all that we know?"_

_She inclined her head, as if she could look directly at the child growing inside of her. "She deserves so much more."_

_Eli waited for a moment, then put his hand on top of his wife's. "I promise you I will do everything so she has a chance to choose her path in life."_

"_Do you hear that, tateleh?", she said to her stomach, ignoring Eli's soft laugh. "You can be anything you want."_

_***…the ides of time…***_

"Do you have all of your homework?", Ziva asked from where she was loading the dishwasher.

David nodded, then sprinted up the stairs only to come back down a moment later with his backpack in hand, perfunctorily rummaging through its insides. "Yep."

"Are you sure?"

"Mom", the eight-year-old groaned, rolling his eyes.

Ziva held up her arms, looking on innocently with a smile adorning her face.

_***…the ides of time…***_

_She gently pried the door to her daughter's room open. Usually, she couldn't get Ziva to wake up at all and now she found her sitting at her desk at six in the morning, writing furiously on a piece of paper._

"_Tateleh?", she called out, walking over to her desk and casting a glance over the girl's shoulder. "What are you doing?"_

"_Homework", Ziva replied._

"_For today?"_

"_Yes", she pressed out, her hand swishing along the paper._

"_Did you forget to do it yesterday?"_

_Ziva stalled for a moment, pretending to read instead. "I did not have time to do it yesterday", she admitted quietly._

"_Ziva-"_

"_I know", she put in quickly, rolling her eyes up at her mother. "But Abba took Ari and me to the range and we were just coming back when you came to pick us up." Ziva studied her mother's face, the anger in her brown eyes becoming apparent. "Don't be angry, Ima-"_

"_I am not angry with you, tateleh", she assured her, running a hand down her daughter's wild curls. "It is your father who should know better."_

"_But-"_

"_Taking you to shooting ranges, training pitches, the offices", she griped. "He gets his days with you so he can spend time with you, not drill you."_

"_Please, don't fight", Ziva implored her, taking a hold of her mother's hand. "He made us promise not to tell. He will know it was me who told you. Please, Ima."_

"_He does not have to know", Eliana replied, squeezing her daughter's hand. "But that was not our deal, Ziva, you know that."_

_Tears were now clearly pooling in Ziva's eyes. "Don't fight."_

_She caught a tear that threatened to drop onto the little girl's cheek with the tip of her thumb. "I will always fight, tateleh", she insisted. "For you, for the three of you, I will always fight."_

_***…the ides of time…***_

"Can we have s'ghetti tonight?", Tali asked as she stood in the foyer with only one shoe on, her eyes cast hopefully into her father's direction.

Ziva recognized her daughter's look instantly as she bent down to help the five-year-old on the case of the missing second shoe. It was the very look that regularly caused Tony to cave, whatever his little girl's request.

"Yes, daddy, we have not had spaghetti in almost a week", Ziva teased, smirking at her partner.

"So, it's about time", David jumped in.

"What a diverse pallet we have", Tony quipped, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. "Sure, we can have spaghetti."

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_It is time, Ari", she said, stepping into the room. "Amid called. Your father is on his way."_

_Ari looked at her for a moment, his eyes heavy with questions. None of them transitioned into sound. Instead, he wearily lifted himself up and grabbed his bags from where he had deposited them on the lounger. When he passed her on his way to the hall, she put a hand on his arm, stopping him._

"_I am sorry", she apologized._

_He shook his head degradedly. "It is not your fault."_

"_It is only two weeks", she tried, smiling vaguely. "And when you get back, I will have a surprise waiting for you."_

_He tried to return her smile, but failed. "You do not need to have a surprise waiting so I will want to come back", he replied softly._

"_Ari!", Tali cried, hurtling herself at her big brother's legs. "Don't go."_

_Ari let go of the bags in one of his hands and instead swung an arm around his little sister. Over the top of her head he noticed Ziva leaning against the doorframe, her expression blank and unreadable as their eyes locked._

"_Orders are orders", Ari declared, offering Ziva a small smile._

_Ziva's chest heaved with a muffled laugh, a sad smile erupting on her face in return._

_***…the ides of time…***_

"Eliana?", Ziva called over.

She was waiting out in the hallway, holding the front door open expectantly. Eliana realized that everyone else had already left the apartment. Following her daughter outside, she watched Ziva lock up and then accompanied her down to the car where Tali, David and Tony were already waiting for them.

* * *

><p>When the doors of the elevator opened and revealed a new week along with the bustle of the squadroom, the serenity of their morning finally evaporated. They had met up with McGee on the bottom floor and already all three of their desk phones were ringing incessantly. They hurried to answer them, a hail of <em>'Special Agent'<em> announcements and curt answers raining down on Eliana as she slowly followed them into the bullpen. Catching Tony's eyes, he nodded towards the spare desk opposite his and she settled down in the chair behind it, watching the team as they exchanged remarks on their respective calls.

"Got a new case", Tony announced, already grabbing his gear.

Ziva and McGee followed suit. The men were already at the elevator, when Ziva turned back around and looked at Eliana. "It is not safe for you to leave the building", she said, her grip on the strap of her backpack somewhat tightening.

Eliana nodded. "So, I will stay here." Ziva briefly returned her nod before following Tony's impatient call and rushing after her team.

* * *

><p>The case, the murder of a Marine Staff Sergeant, was quickly turning into a matter of embezzlement and blackmail. When the team returned to the squadroom, McGee and Ziva spent most of the rest of their morning with background checks, detailing money traces and building up to means and motive, while Tony went through his routine steps of linking their findings with Abby's and Palmer's, leaving once to brief Director Vance. Lunch rolled around and McGee soon took their orders for take-out, surprising Eliana when he came to stand in front of her as well, handing her a menu. Their food, however, was only a tailpiece, so Eliana was once again confined to being a silent observer - and it was getting a dreary role to uphold.<p>

She had spent most of the last thirty years on the run and in hiding from, basically, the whole world. Sitting around and doing nothing, hearing herself chew, watching others do and talk - it was eating away at her nerves, and reliably. There was nothing she could do here. She might have officially come to NCIS as the expert on an ongoing case, but she had since turned into its center piece; a silent and quiescent one at that. She waited until Tony and McGee had left following a call from Abby to march herself over to Ziva's desk.

Ziva was typing out a report. It took her a few moments to realize, or to recognize, that Eliana was staring at her. When she did, she merely raised her eyebrows in a silent question.

"I am trying", Eliana stated, folding her hands in front of her body in a way Ziva had seen her do many times in the past few days.

If possible, Ziva's eyebrows shot up even higher. She halted her current task. "Yes?"

"I am trying not to make things difficult for Tony and you", she continued. "But I believe I will go crazy if I have to sit at that desk from eight in the morning to eight in the evening doing nothing."

A part of Ziva readily understood. There had been days in this office when it hadn't been much different for her either: following her early arrival at NCIS, the death of Brian Dempsey, her return from Somalia, those few hours only a year ago when chances were she had contracted a highly contagious virus. A part of her could understand, but this was different.

"We are trying to do our job here", Ziva argued.

"Yes, and I understand that I am part of that job. But I can do nothing here", Eliana countered. "I will be of more use if I could at least cook dinner at home."

For a second Ziva was taken aback by the use of the word _'home' _in such casual context, but she recovered quickly. "We have a case. Neither Tony, nor I can leave yet."

"I can go by myself."

Ziva chuckled, disbelief causing her to lean back in her chair and cross her arms in front of her chest. "It is the first day of this assignment and already you are jeopardizing the whole thing."

"Ziva, I was able to go thirty years taking care of myself without being detected", Eliana reasoned, bracing her hands on Ziva's desk. "I was Mossad. I am well capable of protecting myself."

"Ziva", Tony's voice suddenly cut into the stare linking mother and daughter. Ziva's head whipped around, the obstinate glisten in her eyes barely wavering. "Abby found Mike Hannigan. McGee and I are going to question him now. Our apartment's on the way."

"You will drop her off at home?"

Tony nodded. "I'll take her up personally, explain everything to Sarah, make sure she's all set."

Eliana watched as Tony's and Ziva's eyes took care of most of the conversation. When Ziva turned back to her, her look was much different. "Sarah stays."

It was a statement, but it sounded a lot like an order to Eliana's ears. She couldn't blame her daughter, though. The kids, barring early-onset grandmotherly inclinations, were off limits. "Of course."

With a last approving nod McGee, who had remained on the sidelines up until then, sprang into action. He retrieved his gear and led Eliana away to the elevators, with Tony right behind them. When he passed Ziva's desk, however, she called him back.

"Tony?"

Tony leaned around the orange partition on her side, offering her a knowing smile. "I'll call in a favor with Dorneget. He'll keep an eye on her, stakeout style."

Ziva returned his smile. "Thank you."

She unconsciously reached out a hand, running her fingers over his where he had curled them around the edge of the partition.

* * *

><p>Ever since becoming an MCRT trinity it usually depended on the given circumstances of a case and on the given point in their work and private lives who would partner up with whom. However, doing paperwork instead of going into the field still didn't sit completely right with Ziva. That feeling had lessened over the years, of course. During her early days at NCIS she would have gone just as much out of her mind as Eliana probably had. She had come to appreciate the desk-related demands of murder investigations over the years; Gibbs had taught her as much. Then, during both of her pregnancies, she had equally learned that taking on lighter loads was not a sign of weakness, but strength, for the life growing inside of her - even if she had almost gone nuts during her first pregnancy and the demands of bed-rest before she had found something to occupy herself with. What grated even more on her nerves, however, was letting Tony go into the field without her there to have his back. She trusted McGee with her life, no questions asked, and with her partner's life; she just preferred being the one to look out for her husband on principle.<p>

She had been writing up ROIs for a while and was just returning from the copy room when the elevator announced itself. She lifted her head in time to see Tony enter the squadroom with a big ice pack pressed to the back of his head.

"What happened?", Ziva asked, worry instantly etched into her face.

"Nothing", Tony muttered, offering her only a weak smile as he breezed past her.

She quickly discarded the stack of paper on her desk and turned to her friend, whose features divulged familiar traces of worry. "McGee?"

McGee glanced at Tony before deciding to focus on Ziva instead. "When we got there, Hannigan got spooked. He took off down the street", he recounted. "We followed him. Tony cut him off at the other end of an alley. I guess he panicked because of the guns, he lunged at Tony and-"

"He knocked me over and I hit my head on a dumpster", Tony finished, sinking into his chair. "It was stupid. I was stupid. End of story."

"Did you get him at least?"

McGee nodded. "Yes, they're taking him to interrogation as we speak."

Ziva offered him an appreciative smile before turning on her heel and stepping up to Tony's desk. He was haphazardly pulling out drawers and digging through their contents, one hand still clutching the ice pack and holding it to his head.

"What are you doing?", she inquired, getting impatient with his antics.

"Pain meds", he replied simply. "Always got some in here."

Ziva watched him for a few more seconds, but a sigh eventually bookmarked the end of her silent watching. She rounded his desk and placed a hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze that caused Tony to finally look up into her eyes. Ziva applied the smallest pressure with a simple touch and Tony readily complied, allowing her to push him against the back of his chair, so he was sitting up straight in front of her.

"Let me take a look", she requested, her voice had audibly softened.

One of her hands had moved to the side of his face, the other was cupped around his ice pack-handling hand. His eyes were fixed on her as she looked down at him, her eyebrows raised diminutively, a small smile on her face - creating a typical Ziva look. Feeling swept up in her smile, a smile she so rarely showed to anyone really but their children and him, Tony's arms sagged and Ziva was free to inspect the back of his head. Her fingers tenderly traced the spot where she could see a bump already forming and withdrew abruptly upon Tony's sharp intake of breath.

"Tony, you could have a concussion", she surmised, one of her hands still resting on his shoulder.

He eyed her wearily. "So what?"

"Concussions are serious."

"Death rates are close to zero, though", McGee put in from where he had taken a seat behind his desk, adding upon Ziva glare, "Just saying."

Tony snorted. "Also, I plan on dying of something memorable. _Gladiator_ style." He blamed his numbing headache for barely registering his own words. When he turned to find Ziva blank stare, however, he became sorely aware of them. His hand shot out to graze her arm. "Hey, I was joking, not pitching a storyline to the Grim Reaper."

"We are going to the hospital, Tony", she declared.

Tony shook his head adamantly. "No, no, no. No hospitals."

With much less gentleness than before Ziva took a hold of his arm and yanked him upright into a standing position. Admittedly, he was not making it too difficult for her. "We are going and that's final."

"I'll take care of the incident report, don't worry", McGee put in, earning himself another grateful smile from Ziva.

"Ziva, please", Tony whined as she was handing him his wallet and cell phone.

Ziva rolled her eyes. Sometimes he was worse than their children. But if she managed to withstand their kids' innocuously pleading faces when matters were important enough to her, then she certainly was capable of withstanding Tony's. "You are going to get checked out and I am going with you."

"But-"

"No buts", she held.

Her tone wasn't angry or demanding as she was standing in front of him in the middle of the bullpen. It also hardly reminded Tony of the low sternness she reserved for the kids during their more petulant moments. It wasn't an order, it wasn't a gripe. It was a sincere request. In her way, and in response to his reaction to hospitals, she was asking him, sincerely, to do this for her. There was no way he could refuse that.

"Okay", he conceded, waiting for Ziva to get her things and allowing her to lead him to the car.

* * *

><p>Ziva was driving, but Tony barely acknowledged the trip. His headache had worsened ever since leaving the parking lot and he had resigned himself to closing his eyes against the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. He could feel Ziva's worried glances at every traffic light and whenever he did, he managed to offer her a small smile. It didn't nearly appease her, but they both, quietly, appreciated how much this moment emulated the story of their first kiss from more than ten years ago. It was strange to feel the beautiful surge of that moment against the backdrop of their current destination being Bethesda.<p>

After registration they settled into two chairs in the far right corner of the ER waiting room. Ziva briefly checked for any messages on her and Tony's phones and quickly texted McGee to keep him updated. Returning her attention to her partner, she realized Tony's face had not gained any color since she had last checked. He was still pale and ashen against his dark suit. Once again a smile crept onto his face when he noticed her eyes on him, but she didn't buy it. His eyes were only half-open against the pain anyway. When he placed a hand on her knee, Ziva gently took a hold of it, entwining their fingers.

"This is stupid, Ziva", he mumbled, looking at their hands. "I've got a bump on my head. I'll pop a pill, ten minutes give or take, and I'm good as new."

"This is not stupid", she insisted.

"It is, if you compare it to the stuff we usually go to hospitals for."

"It is not stupid."

Tony leaned his head back. The coughing, the beeping, the hollow announcements around him, Ziva's breathing. He hated hospitals for everything that they stood for and everything that he had endured in them: Every time he entered one, he saw his mother's slowly decaying body, the bullet hole in Kate's head, the oblivious look in Gibbs' amnesic eyes. He heard Ziva's growls of pain echoing in the hallway of that German hospital, standing guard in front of her door on their stop-over from Mogadishu and listening as they re-broke her fingers, learning only later that she had doggedly refused any anesthesia for she had spent half of her captivity drugged and had been left terrified of their consequences. He heard the swooshing of the inhalator hooked up to his newborn son. He remembered the blinding overhead lights from being wheeled along hospital hallways on a stretcher, remembered the hospital beds with friends in them, remembered Ziva's eyes closed to the effects of a coma. Hospitals just weren't his kind of place.

"I thought I was seeing Kadeer", Tony relayed suddenly, not looking at her.

"You saw Kadeer?", she repeated, alarm ringing through her voice.

"I didn't see him. I _thought_ I was seeing him. When I was standing in the alley in front of Hannigan. For a moment, I thought Kadeer was watching me", he elaborated, tilting his head a little. "Guy at the corner of the street looked like his spitting image. I was distracted for a second and boom! Hannigan practically ran me over."

Ziva just stared at him, unable to say anything, but not needing to when a nurse appeared to inform them that a doctor would see Tony now.

"Can my wife come along?", he asked.

The nurse smiled and nodded, leading them to an examination room. They followed and stepped inside, their hands clasped together all the while. The nurse left again shortly after jotting down a few of Tony's vitals, only to be soon replaced by a doctor who ran a few tests and ordered an x-ray. Ziva was hanging back during most of the examination, smiling a few times at the appropriate places when the doctor was directing a joke or an observation at _'Mrs. DiNozzo'_. She had no intention of correcting him.

As they were waiting for the results, however, she had reclaimed her spot by Tony's side. He had been given medication against the pain and she was relieved to see the color return to his face. One of her hands was lightly trailing along the side of his arm. His eyes were closed and he was appreciating with a small smile the fading of his headache and the pleasant lingering of numbness. Ziva's other hand was still clasping his tie. He had taken it off first thing when they had entered the room. She couldn't help but be reminded of the time nurses had handed her Tony's things after he had been shot, his tie on top of the pile, and she had fainted on the spot, six weeks pregnant with David.

When the door opened and the same doctor from before stepped in, they were both yanked from their quiet reverie. Tony sat up, taking a hold of Ziva's hand once again in the process.

"I'm happy to inform you that you are healthy as can be", he announced, taking a stand in front of the pair. "We can rule out a concussion. There's no major trauma. You're good to go, Agent DiNozzo."

Tony's smile easily turned into a grin. "Thanks, Doc."

"But", the doctor cautioned, "You did experience quite the fall. It's bound to leave you with a big bump for a few days. Headaches are to be expected, I'll leave you with a prescription for pain medication. And, just to be on the safe side, no strenuous activities for the next few days."

Tony sighed. "Bummer."

"We will see to that", Ziva cut in, a pointed expression on her face. "Thank you."

"No problem", the doctor said, leaving them with a last smile.

"See? I told you so", Tony was quick to point out, swinging his legs over the edge of the hospital bed.

Ziva handed him his tie with a small shrug. "I needed to be sure."

Tony smiled, leaning in to capture her lips. "I know", he mumbled against her. "Apparently, you love me."

Ziva chuckled. "You know I do."

* * *

><p>Tony and Ziva had returned to NCIS headquarters to wrap up their day only to be greeted by Abby and her need to be twice-assured that Tony was, in fact, okay. Other than that, nothing much prevented them from going home at a reasonable time that afternoon. Hannigan, it turned out, had pumped his system with an off-putting mix of drugs and there was no way to question him until he had sobered up.<p>

Arriving at their building, Tony promptly took off towards the car on the other side of the street so as to give Agent Dorneget their thanks and to relieve him, while Ziva went upstairs. She entered the apartment absentmindedly, her thoughts anywhere but in the present, but that changed abruptly when the sounds of the afternoon drifted towards her. It wasn't Sarah's habit to have music running in the background, and even if she did have music on, it never sounded like this. These were jazz notes streaming from the radio in the kitchen. Eliana, Ziva recalled, had had a whole vinyl jazz collection that she used to play day-in and day-out. Ziva also recognized the muffled back-and-forth of voices.

She stepped into the living room, however, to find it quiet and empty except for David sitting at the coffee table and doing his homework. Ziva went over to him and sat on the edge of the couch, dropping a kiss on his head.

"You're home", he observed.

"We promised", Ziva said, returning his smile.

"Dad?"

"Will be right up."

David nodded and returned to the questionnaire he had been filling in. Ziva surveyed the books lying open on the table before turning her attention to the kitchen. The sliding door that separated kitchen and living room was usually wide open, but right now it was closed, keeping out most of the sound scenery she had picked up on before.

"How was school?", Ziva inquired, leaning forward to get a better look at her son's face.

"Okay."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly. "Yes?"

David turned to face her and nodded. "I didn't miss much."

"Where is everybody?", Tony asked, when he entered the living room.

"Kitchen", David informed them curtly.

Ziva and Tony shared a look before deciding to go in and see for themselves. They pushed the door open to reveal Eliana standing at the stove, stirring something invisible while Tali and Sarah were busying themselves at the kitchen table. Sarah was cutting up vegetables while instructing and overseeing the five-year-old in mixing ingredients together in two separate bowls. When Sarah turned to Eliana to check whether they were doing it right, Ziva realized that it had been their voices she had heard.

"Mommy! Daddy!", Tali called out once she noticed them standing in the doorframe, both rooted to the floor in stunned ambivalence about the scene before them.

The little girl abandoned her current activity and rushed over to deliver her welcoming hugs. With her arms still around Ziva, who had crouched down to her level, she assessed, "Grandma's making your fav'rite."

Ziva's eyebrows rose. "My favorite what, tateleh?"

"Food, mommy", Tali replied with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Eliana said it was your favorite dish as a kid, Ziva", Sarah clarified, offering them a smile in passing, en route to gathering up her things.

Ziva and Tony were still recovering from the casual use of the _'grandma' _moniker, when Eliana spoke up, "I appreciate you setting me up with a warden, by the way."

"You are not imprisoned", Ziva countered.

"Not yet, at least", Tony quipped, then turned his attention to his daughter, motioning towards the kitchen table. "Let's finish up here, princess."

"But you donno how, daddy."

"You show me then." He held out his hand and Tali led him to the table, starting to ramble away explanatorily.

A smile springing to her face at the manner father and daughter quickly fell into routine banter, Ziva stepped up to her mother and inspected the contents of the pot. It looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't even remember the name of the dish. She then turned to take in Eliana's appearance. She had obviously changed out of the clothes from that morning, and she had a rag tucked around her belt like a sash. She had a habit of doing the exact same thing, Ziva realized.

"I can take care of myself whenever I stay here", Eliana stated quietly, her words only meant for Ziva. "I know how to scout a building, evaluate exit and entry ways and come up with possible ways to defend myself with chance weapons. I am capable of protecting myself."

Ziva gave her a quick glance that was barely indicative of any emotion and then decided to see Sarah out instead of getting into that argument. The younger woman had just finished saying goodbye to David and Ziva followed her to the foyer.

"I have to admit I was a bit anxious about meeting your mother when Tony told me", Sarah started offhandedly, putting on her shoes. "But she's one really nice lady. And it sounds like she's been all over the world. She gave me great tips for my trip to Mexico with Jason next week."

Ziva watched her struggle with her boots for a moment. "She's certainly gotten…around."

Sarah, oblivious to the undertones in Ziva's voice, looked back up with a smile. "The kids haven't met her before, have they?"

Ziva shook her head. "No, this is the first time."

"Tali's taking to her", Sarah observed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "It's like when Tony came back from Spain. You can feel it with her."

Ziva reflexively turned her head, as if she could get a glimpse at her daughter from out here. "Yes. Yes, you can", she admitted, seeing her own suspicions readily validated.

Sarah tilted her head to the side. "David, not so much."

"I know", Ziva said, a sigh hanging on her lips.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate Sarah's observations. After all these years of taking care of her children, Ziva had only gratitude and fondness for the younger women. She had always valued Sarah's opinion when it came to Tali and David as she had often come to depend on it, particularly during Tony's days in Rota.

This time, however, Sarah detected Ziva's reservation and continued, "You need me tomorrow again?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes, please. I guess Eliana will be here also."

"No problem", she replied. "I mean, I've heard of Uncle Ducky telling the best stories and all, but your mother can't be too far behind with hers, right?"

Ziva just smiled and hinted at a nod as they proceeded to say their goodbyes. Closing the door again, she realized that she had no idea if Eliana's stories were just as entertaining as Ducky's, or as long and intricate, or nearly so. She really had no idea.

Dinner had started out as a rather quiet affair again, the clonking and clanging of pots, and plates, and cutlery the only sound for a while. Still, taking her first bite, it was like a trip back in time for Ziva. She tasted ingredients and spices she so vividly associated with her home country that it was hard not to stop and stare at the plate in front of her. If she wasn't specifically intending to cook an innately Israeli dish, she usually didn't even create the tastes she had grown up with. For a second she was left to wonder where Eliana had gotten all the ingredients from, though, suspicious of some flavors she was pretty sure were impossible to accomplish with only her supplies.

She couldn't wonder for long, however, when the mood at the table markedly tipped. Looking over, Tali was poking around in her food, a sour look on her face every time she forced herself to take a bite. That, at least, still managed to draw a small smile on Ziva's face. The five-year-old hadn't been much of a fan of the food selection in Israel during their Haifa trip either, so she had expected that reaction, already thinking of a backup dish to fix for her daughter. David's demeanor, in turn, wiped the smile promptly off her face.

"You okay there, buddy?", Tony asked, having gone through the same motions as Ziva. He briefly shot his partner a look.

"I don't like it", he declared, putting down his fork and pushing the plate away.

"You have not even tried it yet", Ziva reasoned.

He turned to his mother. "So?"

"So, the rule is we try first and then you can still decide if you like it or not."

The eight-year-old shrugged. "I don't want to try it."

"Yes, you do", Ziva insisted, placing the plate back in front of her son.

"No", he shot back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "And you can't make me."

"Hey", Tony cut in firmly, fixing David with his eyes. "Watch that tone."

The little boy tilted his head, dodging his father's stare. Ziva meanwhile picked up his fork and held it out in front of him. "David, please", she insisted, her voice colored by a tinge of sternness that usually marked the beginning of being in trouble.

David very well recognized the markers of the situation, but he just couldn't bring himself to act accordingly. He lifted his eyes up and looked alternately at his mom and dad. "I don't want it, because she made it", he snapped, his hand shooting out towards Eliana.

"David-"

"No, I don't want it."

And with that he pushed himself away from the table and was headed towards the stairs, darting up the treads and down the hallway until they could hear the door of his room being soundly flung shut. The rest of them were left to stare after him in disbelief over what had just happened. Eliana in particular tried hard to focus her eyes on anything but on either one of the others. Tony and Ziva eyes met across the table.

"What's with Deed?", Tali asked in a small voice, looking between her parents.

"Excuse me", Ziva said, her eyes not having left Tony's once, as she got up and followed her son upstairs.

"Mommy's gonna fix it?", the five-year-old tried again, now focusing on her father more directly to elicit an answer.

Tony put on a small smile for his daughter's sake. "Yeah, your mom will fix this."

Ziva didn't bother knocking on her son's door. She was ready to be understanding and calm, because she knew in her heart that his outburst had been about anything _but_ the food. But, for starters, she had expected less of a tantrum from her eight-year-old.

"You want to tell me what that was about?", she asked, her voice stern as she closed the door behind her with a pointed snap.

David was sitting at his desk, dangling his feet in mid-air and shaking his head at his mother's question. "I didn't like the food. Dad promised us spaghetti."

"And you think the way you chose to tell us that was at all acceptable?", Ziva demanded, walking over to him.

David shook his head again.

"David, look at me, please", she said, waiting until he had done so to continue, "Do you think it was okay, the way you just acted?"

He moved to shake his head again, but his mom's narrowed eyes made him rethink that choice. The words hung on his lips for a while, his mouth gaping, before he answered quietly, "No."

"Why?", she asked, crouching down beside his chair so he wouldn't have to look up at her anymore.

David puffed out a small batch of breath. He hated the part where he had to explain why he was sorry or why he was in trouble. It seemed pointless, seeing as he was already apologizing or in trouble anyway.

"I shouldn't have yelled. I shouldn't have run off. And I should've tried it", he listed, not really looking into his mother's eyes yet.

"So, why did you do all of that?", she pressed on, her eyebrows rising. "Eliana's food could not have been that bad."

"I never even tried it anyway", he mumbled, eliciting a smile with his sheepish smile.

Ziva studied her son's face for a while as his eyes flickered towards hers repeatedly but never fully stuck. He was still swinging his legs back and forth and eventually, Ziva reached out a hand to stop his nervous movements.

"Tell me what is really bothering you", she educed.

The returned gentleness in his mom's voice made him somewhat feel at ease again. He didn't really want to say it to his mom's face, but she already knew it anyway. His dad had told her and now she just wanted to hear it from him. She wouldn't get mad again, right?

"I don't like her", he declared, bowing his head again.

Ziva nodded, offering him a small smile to soothe her son's apprehensive gaze. Instead of any kind of response, however, she got up from the floor and held out her hand. David eyed her questioningly, but took her hand nonetheless. Ziva led him over to his bed, where she settled down and slid back to lean against the wall. David quickly followed suit, mimicking the way his mom had tugged her knees up to her body.

Ziva fought the urge to just envelop her son in a hug and instead slung her arms around her legs, facing him. She wanted him to be his own person when he answered her next question, not her little boy wrapped into his mother's arms.

"Why is it that you do not like her?"

David took a deep breath and turned to look at his mom. "I don't like that she's here. I don't like that she was away for so long. And I don't like the way you look at her."

Ziva perfectly understood the first two reasons, but was taken by surprise by the latter. "Why? How do I look at her?"

"Like you did when we looked at the pictures together and there was one of her", he explained. "You look at her like she's still gone."

The profoundness of her son's words stunned Ziva into silence for a moment. She regretted that they sometimes forgot to hold David to the emotional standards of an eight-year-old little boy, and she often feared they weren't giving him enough of a chance to be treated as a child, and protected like one. But it was so hard to find the balance, when he seemed so much older so many times.

"Maybe she still is", Ziva offered, finding her words again and yet not knowing if this was really the way to go. Tony and she had agreed on venturing the truth, if at all possible, and she saw no way around it right now. "It is very hard for me to look at her and to see my mother in her and not just a woman who I do not know."

"See? I don't like that she left you at all and that you don't got to know her and she doesn't know you", David said, his voice gaining strength. "Moms aren't supposed to leave."

Ziva couldn't hold back a small laugh. "You are right. Moms and dads are supposed to be there for their sons and daughters, yes?"

"Right", he agreed, nodding his head. "You need them all the time and if they aren't there, you're alone all the time. Like you were, mom. You said you were really lonely. And it's her fault."

It was hard to argue with logic like that. A smile settled firmly on Ziva's face as she reached out a hand and tucked a strand of light brown hair behind her son's ear. "It is very easy to blame everything on my mother, tateleh", she said, a small shrug falling from her shoulders. "But it just- It is not that easy."

David tilted his head to the side. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean that your grandmother had to make very hard decisions in her life. Decisions she sometimes did not have control over. She had to leave, to do her job and to protect me and my siblings", she explained, the words tumbling right from her thoughts. "It is never easy for a mom to leave her kids. Believe me, I know."

"But you don't know", David countered. "You never left us."

Ziva smiled, feeling both honored by her son's trust and yet oh-so guilty. "It does not matter if we leave you for the first time with somebody else when you are a baby, or if we take you to your first day of school, or if we spend nights apart. It is never easy to let your child go", she said. "I did all of these things and even if I knew that I had to, I still felt guilty for doing them."

David thought about this for a while, conjuring up memories of his and Tali's first days. He blinked. "So, you think she feels guilty?"

"I know that she is very, very sorry, yes", Ziva assured him.

David's shoulders slumped instantly. "So, that means I'm bad."

Ziva threw her head back. "Why do you say that?"

"Uncle Gibbs says so", he clarified, looking serious. "Rule #6a: Always try to forgive."

The smile on Ziva's face easily grew into a grin. _How times had changed._ She put a hand on her son's cheek, leaning in a little closer to him. "The important part about that rule is _trying_ to forgive."

David narrowed his eyes. "Are you?"

Ziva nodded. "I am trying very hard. But it is not easy for me", she admitted. "Just as I know it is not easy for you either. I understand that very well."

"But we have to give her a chance", the eight-year-old concluded, sighing softly.

"Exactly", Ziva agreed. "Every family we get is a gift, tateleh. If you get a chance at having a grandmother, you should take that chance."

David fixed her with his eyes. "But you didn't get a mom."

"No, I did not", Ziva said, a sad smile twisting her lips. "But it is not your job to punish her for that. Your job is to see if she deserves your trust. And so is mine."

By now he had heard the same advice by three people he trusted deeply - three and a half, if he counted Tali. "How will we know?", he asked.

Ziva smiled. "We will. Give it time."

"Okay."

"Okay", Ziva nodded, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his forehead.

When she pulled back she turned to the door and to Tali, who was peeking in through the crack. She had noticed the little girl a minute ago, even though she had to give the five-year-old credit for her untypical stealth. Tali, recognizing her mother's eyes on her, offered her a sheepish grin. Ziva reached out a hand towards the little girl and Tali came over, hoisted herself up on the bed and crawled into her mother's lap.

Tali took a moment to alternate gazes between her mother and brother, scrutinizing their expressions, her forehead creased in pensive wrinkles. Satisfied with Ziva's smile, she turned to David. "Mommy fix you?", she asked.

David chuckled, shooting his mother a look. "Yeah. Mom fixed me."

"Good", she declared. "It's not nice to yell at people that make you dinner."

"I know."

"Well said, tateleh", Ziva agreed, dropping a kiss on her daughter's head.

They remained in that position for a while. Ziva just felt content to be where she was, and David was contemplating the many conversations he had had over the past two days. At one point, however, he felt he still had to establish something important.

"Mom?"

"Yes, tateleh?"

He turned to face her. "I'm sorry."

She took a hold of his hand beside her, nodding her head. "I know."

* * *

><p>When Tony had excused Tali to go after her brother and mother, quite suddenly only he and Eliana were left in the kitchen. He readily recognized the look in her eyes as that uncanny mixture of obstinate resolve and deep disappointment, but he couldn't help it either.<p>

"It was a nice gesture, really", he offered, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"That is kind of you to say", she replied, already proceeding to clear away the dishes and the food that had barely been touched.

Tony nodded. "It's not easy."

"I appreciate that you are giving me a chance, though, Tony."

He turned around to look at her. His eyebrows lifted. "I'm not doing this for you, you know that, right?"

"I know."

"I'm not big on parents that abandon their kids or take them for granted, for that matter. Especially when that kid is the women I love and I've watched hurting because of it", he continued, getting up to help her load the dishwasher. "But there's no use adding to her grief."

"Grief…", Eliana repeated quietly, bending down towards the dishwasher in order to dodge Tony's eyes.

"I don't think you really appreciate just how much this is all worth to us", he said, keeping a tight hold on the plate he was handing to her, so she eventually had no other choice than to look up at him. "How long it has taken us to be happy. How long it has taken Ziva to be happy."

Eliana narrowed her eyes. "You do not make it easy for me either."

"It's not supposed to be easy", Tony held. "It's worth it, but not easy."

"I am not taking her for granted", she declared.

"You shouldn't take anybody for granted. It takes a lot of work to be a family."

Eliana took a deep breath, straightening up. "I am still learning."

"You keep doing that", he advised, finally letting go of the plate. "Falling over's part of the process. Believe me, I know."


	37. Settling in Fury

_**Quick question: **I'm almost done writing the last chapter and I was thinking that it would be a good idea to step it up a little and post two chapters each week, say, Monday and Thursday/Friday. Any objections? Seeing as there will be 48 chapters in total that would put the finale in the early weeks of 2014..._

_On we go._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 37 Settling in Fury <strong>

**Tuesday, April 13****th**** 2021**

Ziva walked quietly and aptly down the stairs, applying only little weight to the one step she knew was still squeaking even though she and Tony had repeatedly reminded each other of its need for repairing. She had successfully avoided waking him during her nightmarish fit and while creeping out of their bedroom. She wanted to keep it that way now. The past weeks had undoubtedly thrown them back into an old pattern, when the immanence of her nightmares had been enough to turn Tony into a light sleeper; her every move, every sound waking him. Years ago she had taken great comfort in this, knowing he would always know. It strangely comforted her even now. But he deserved his sleep, and she could deal with this herself.

Ziva didn't bother with the light switch, gliding barefooted across the floor paneling and into the kitchen. She gave the faucet a curt yank and let the water run down the drain for some time while looking out of the window above the sink, staring into the dark nothingness that was a tree in the backyard of their apartment block. Then she reached for a glass and filled it to the brim.

"Do you usually come for water in the middle of the night?", a soft voice emerged from somewhere behind her.

"Not if it can be avoided", Ziva replied.

She wasn't surprised when Eliana turned the corner and stepped into the kitchen. She had caught the soft rustling of fabric a while ago. She set the glass against her lips and finally allowed the soothingly cool liquid to trickle down her throat.

"You have nightmares", the older woman stated, studying Ziva's expression.

Ziva hinted at a nod before turning around to fill another glass, this time keeping it suspended in front of her chest afterwards. She fixed her eyes on her mother.

"They come from seeing and holding on to what we have seen", Eliana said, taking a few steps into the room and curling her hand around the backrest of the nearest kitchen chair. "With time it gets harder to say whether we are holding on to them or they are holding on to us."

The laugh that ripped from somewhere at the back of Ziva's throat got stuck in her chest, its heaving almost invisible in the darkness of the room. She took two gulps from her water. "I could think of better things to hold on to", she retorted.

Eliana motioned towards the glass in her hand. "Does it help?"

"Some", Ziva answered, emptying her glass. "It has been a while since a kiss and a cuddle were all it took."

Eliana stared at her for a while. "What is it for you?"

"Memories", Ziva said. "You?"

"Guilt."

A small smile flittered across Ziva's face. She turned and deposited her glass in the sink. "Tony will come looking for me, if I am gone too long", she excused herself softly, offering her mother a nod before stepping around her to go back upstairs.

* * *

><p>It sounded too kitschy, and way too easy, to claim that their brief meeting in the early morning hours had been some sort of <em>'bonding'<em>, but Ziva had felt her smile come on more effortlessly that morning when Eliana entered the kitchen and she asked her to bring over another plate. It also didn't slip anybody's attention that David specifically directed a _'boker tov'_ at Eliana, who appeared sufficiently surprised by the gesture, but returned it no less offhandedly. Tali wasn't generally big on words in the morning, but Tony and Ziva certainly took note of the little girl's wave and sweet _'see ya' _when leaving the apartment alongside her father, and Eliana with a smile. Ultimately, however, it was David offering Eliana a sincere and audible _'sorry'_ for how he had acted the other day, which ignited a spark of _we're-getting-there_ in Ziva that morning - just to startle herself with the idea of wishing to get anywhere at all.

Later Tony and Ziva were brooding over the transcript of Hannigan's interrogation, which had taken up most of their work day up until then. McGee had left half an hour ago to help Abby pull all new parameters into their mock-up of the Staff Sergeant's murder. Both Tony and Ziva were deeply immersed in their own train of thoughts, when Ziva's head suddenly whipped up. The buzzing she had thus far attributed to an especially chatty light bulb might have actually been her cell. She walked over to her desk to check, Tony's eyes following her. She removed a stack of paper that she had earlier buried her cell underneath, and glanced at it. Her eyes narrowed.

"That was David's school", she informed her partner.

"What-" But before Tony could even think of a question to ask, the cell phone on his desk started buzzing violently. The caller ID showed _'Gavington Elementary'_. "Me too."

A wave of worry washed over them. That couldn't be good; not with the school calling, not with the school calling both of them in quick succession. Something was up.

"Don't look at it, pick it up", Ziva urged.

Tony did as he was told. "Very Special Agent DiNozzo."

Ziva rolled her eyes. She watched Tony nod a few times. She tried to read his expression, but Tony's face was set in stone. Knowing her partner, though, this was never a good sign. "We'll be right there", he ended, hanging up.

"What happened? Is he alright?", Ziva demanded.

"He's been in a fight", Tony explained, already packing up his things. "That was the principal's office. We gotta go down there and pick him up."

Tony's words barely registered with Ziva. She rushed over to her desk, grabbed her bag and coat, not bothering to take anything else. Tony quickly stuck a note to McGee's computer explaining their sudden absence in curt abbreviations and with that they left. In the car they were both unable to look at each other, both direly occupied with their own assault of thoughts. But they silently agreed on one thing: Fighting was not like their son. David didn't get into fights. _For their son to get physical…_

Upon their arrival at the school parking lot Tony instinctively took Ziva's hand in his and didn't let go until they arrived at the administration building. David was slumped in a chair outside the principle's door. He looked positively miserable. His shoulders were sagged forward and he clutched a tissue stained with small specks of blood. His backpack sat discarded on the floor beside him. His clothes looked disheveled. Hearing the familiar and distinctive clunking of his mother's boots, his head shot up. His eyes were bloodshot. Ziva took the remaining steps even faster, her hand slipping out of Tony's grasp. She immediately crouched down on the floor in front of him.

"I'm sorry", he croaked, looking between his parents.

"It's okay, buddy. Just tell us what happened?", Tony asked, kneeling down next to his partner.

David shrugged his shoulders, causing Tony and Ziva to share a look.

"Are you alright?", Ziva asked, putting a few strands of loose hair behind his ear. They would have to get it cut one of these days.

David nodded but did not look like it at all. Ziva pried the bloody tissue from his grasp and pressed it against the beads of blood under his nose, her other hand gently counterbalancing the pressure at the back of his neck. Tony was just about to repeat his earlier question, when the door to his right opened and the towering figure of Gavington's principal, Mrs. Levine, stepped out into the corridor.

"Mr. and Mrs. DiNozzo?", she asked. Tony and Ziva nodded, both not bothering to correct her. "May I have a quick word with you?"

They flickered to their son in unison. He looked worn and miserable and they had no particular desire to leave him alone like that. On the other hand, there was not much of a choice anyway. Assuring each other of the other's opinion with a brief glance, Tony was the first to get up and shake Mrs. Levine's hand.

"Keep this pressed to your nose, yes?", Ziva instructed the eight-year-old. "We will be right back."

David merely nodded. Ziva sighed inwardly and got up, following her partner and the principal inside. When they entered a sparsely furnished and decorated office, Mrs. Levine offered them a seat on the couch, pulling up a chair for herself. They each declined a glass of water, their eyes divulging straightforward urgency.

"What happened?", Tony blurted out, not caring to voice the matter at hand any more diligently.

"Today at recess David and a boy from his class got into a fight. They blame each other on who started it. They have also both failed to disclose their reasons. But their class teacher tells me it may have been building up for a while. The boys haven't been on good terms lately", Mrs. Levine explained evenly.

"Who is the other boy?", Ziva asked.

"Thomas."

"Tommy?"

"Yes."

"But he is David's best friend."

Once again, Tony's and Ziva's eyes met in a worried glance. They had both been aware of Tommy being an issue. Ziva hated the fact that they might have brushed over their son's problems in school, because the past few weeks had proven to be more challenging than usual for them.

"Their teacher tells me their relationship has become increasingly hostile in class and outside", Mrs. Levine continued.

"Being hostile is not the same as getting into a fight", Ziva countered, her eyes narrowing.

"Exactly", the other woman agreed, folding her hands in her lap. "We might be looking at the tip of the iceberg or the boys' relationship might have considerably changed. This means that this was either a one-time event or we are in for more."

"Woah, wait. Rewind. Changed? In for more?", Tony cut in. "Why don't you start by telling us what happened first?"

Mrs. Levine nodded. "Tommy says that David pushed him and David in turn claims that Tommy hit him in the face."

"Our son is sitting outside with a bloody nose", Ziva said, irked by the principal's skeptical tone. "It is safe to say that David's face was somehow involved."

"Fight is fight, Mrs. DiNozzo."

Tony threw his head back. "Boys fight. Kids fight."

Ziva turned to him. "David doesn't fight, Tony", she mumbled, her words and look only meant for her partner.

"We take fighting very seriously here", Mrs. Levine put in.

Ziva picked up the defensive glisten in Tony's eyes, the same glisten she tried to suppress herself. "As do we", she affirmed, catching Tony's glance for just a second. "But what my husband is trying to say is that there have been a few changes in David's life during the past week and he might not have adjusted to them yet."

Mrs. Levine nodded, her eyebrows rising as she alternately looked at them. "I understand-"

Tony scoffed. "It's not what you think."

"David's grandmother- My mother recently moved in with us. She did not live close-by before and our children barely know her", Ziva explained, trying to keep her voice level. "It is quite an adjustment for both of them."

"And we're trying to, you know, get her assets in order", Tony added flatly. "It's a little messy right now."

"I see."

"So, what we are saying-"

"Is that David's not the kind of kid who gets into fights."

"I know that this is your son's first transgression of the sort and that he is an excellent student. I didn't mean to insinuate anything", Mrs. Levine ascertained. "The boys were admonished for their behavior, but there will be no further consequences for either of them."

"Thank you", Ziva said, thinking it might be the right kind of reaction as of now.

"Nonetheless, you might want to get to the bottom of this. If your son really is this upset by his grandmother's move, you should sit down and explain the situation again. Or maybe you want to talk to Tommy's mother, maybe the boys need a guiding hand in settling their problems", Mrs. Levine advised, getting up and opening the door.

"We will, thank you." Ziva shook her hand with a curt smile.

"Bye." Tony did the same, omitting the smile.

When they returned to the hallway, David still held the blood-sprinkled fabric to his nose even though he wasn't bleeding any more. Ziva took the tissue from him with a small smile and Tony assured the silently frantic eight-year-old that there was nothing else to worry about. However, they both promised a long and extensive talk about what had happened.

Seeing as it was only a little after one in the afternoon, all three of them then returned to the Navy Yard, where Ziva took David down to the shower rooms to check for any further bleeds, scratches or other injuries; thankfully finding nothing of the sort. Seeing as a massive pile of paperwork had gathered on each of their desks, Ziva, Tony and McGee resumed their work in silence. McGee had received a curt explanation from Tony and had then decided not to push the issue further. Then again, his nephew getting into fights wasn't exactly the kind of news that he had expected; and it worried him just as much as the expressions he detected on his friends' faces. Meanwhile, David was doing his homework at the spare desk. Ziva could feel him looking at her every so often, words hanging on his lips, but they would have their talk, later and at home.

Around half past four they decided to call it a day anyway. They had hit a dead-end and needed to look at the whole case from a new angle and with fresh minds. David had long finished his homework by then and had since gone on to drawing silently. They were mostly office scenes with added décor, Tony found, having stopped over at his son's desk once to offer him a sandwich. More than anything, then, Ziva and Tony wanted to get David home. McGee, being McGee, was quite happy to put in a few extra hours on the case since Abby had entered the regional finals with the nuns and, seeing as they had practically adopted Liora as their mascot, he was without his girls for the evening anyway. Tony and Ziva both acknowledged that with grateful smiles.

* * *

><p>They entered the apartment to the sound of Tali's voice. The little girl seemed upbeat enough, causing Tony and Ziva to share a look. They certainly hadn't expected that sound scenery to belong to the sight that presented itself to them when they stepped into the living room: Tali was kneeling on the couch, her arms flaring about while conducting an agitated tale, a smile on her face. Across from her there was Eliana, her legs crossed and her hands folded in her lap, sporting a similar, but slightly less prominent smile and listening intently. Two mugs were resting on the coffee table, and the two of them appeared comfortably oblivious to them.<p>

"Well, hello you two", Tony greeted, his backpack slowly slipping down his forearm.

"Hello mommy, daddy and Deed", Tali called out, leaning over the back of the couch and giving them a big smile.

Ziva walked over and dropped a kiss on Tali's head, her eyes soon fixed on Eliana. "Where is Sarah?"

"I was told to inform you that she is very sorry and that it will not happen again", Eliana explained softly. "But there was some sort of emergency and she had to leave unexpectedly. And knowing that David was with you anyway, I assured her that I would look after Tali and that she was free to go."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "That is not-"

"Thank you", Tony cut in, coming up beside Ziva.

Eliana nodded, the smile on her face persisting. "She is expecting your call."

"Grandma made dinner again", Tali said, looking up at her parents with a wide grin, her eyes only briefly flickering to her brother.

David was still hovering in the doorframe behind Tony and Ziva, still clutching his backpack. If dinner was ready, that meant his initial plan of hiding in his bedroom until it was had just been unceremoniously tossed out of the window.

"Thank you."

This time it was Ziva who had offered her appreciation and it was enough to tug Eliana upright. She quickly launched into an elaborate explanation as to having prepared something more American this time around. Apparently, she had gotten Sarah to make a list of possible dishes for her, which she could then improvise on. Not only had she thus purposely assumed dinner duty for the time being, but sixteen years after discovering it (and then being boxed into a shipping container for the remainder of the day) Tony finally ascertained where Ziva's cooking affinities had originated.

Dinner that evening conclusively established the shifting dynamics in their home. Tali wasn't entirely at the high-point of her energetic abilities, but it started to feel close enough. Nobody was more grateful for that than David, who could subsequently blend into the background, not uttering much of anything. It didn't take a lot of in-depth knowledge to realize that something had happened, that something was seriously wrong and that it involved David. Once the little boy had excused himself from the table to go to his room, Eliana had knowingly offered to keep an eye on Tali while Tony and Ziva dealt with whatever it was that needed to be dealt with.

A sincere smile tugged at Ziva's lips this time. "Todah."

"My pleasure", Eliana said, turning her attention to Tali. "You did not get to finish your story before. May I hear the end of it?"

"But mommy and daddy are home", Tali countered, her eyes settling on her parents expectantly.

"Princess, your mom and I need to talk to your brother for a while", Tony explained, shoving his thumb into the air and indicating upstairs. "Are you okay down here with Eliana?"

"You talkin' to Deed _again_?", Tali exclaimed, her shoulders sagging a bit.

"Please, tateleh?", Ziva requested.

"Ooo-kay", Tali sighed, hopping down from the chair and looking squarely at Eliana. "But then it's gotta be the long story."

"Thank you", Ziva mumbled, when both Eliana and Tali were already long out of earshot.

She got up and started to clean away the dishes, Tony soon jumping in to help her. They worked alongside each other in silence, a familiar and routine ebb and flow of movements, until the dirty dishes were stacked on the counter and Ziva moved to load the dishwasher, while Tony handed them to her one by one.

After a while, however, he couldn't hold back any longer. "Any particular reason you were so well-behaved in that obnoxious woman's office today?", he demanded.

"She is not obnoxious, she was doing her job", Ziva countered absently. She reached for the last plate, but wasn't being handed one. Straightening up, she found Tony staring at her with a look of obvious bewilderment. The plate was still resting on the counter. Her eyebrows rose. "What?"

"Excuse me for thinking you'd rip that woman a new one for her constant innuendo."

Ziva's eyes narrowed now. Instead of answering she took the plate from the counter, shoved it into the dishwasher with little grace and tipped it shut with a jolt from her hip.

"I just thought when it came to office calls you'd be with me on the defense's side and not up there pleading guilty, that's all."

"I thought you were doing a wonderful job at aggravating her without my help", Ziva shot back.

He took a step towards her, the gush of water flooding the insides of the dishwasher drowning out all else. His eyes dropped directly into hers. "Ziva."

It was simple; it was everything. "I was not pleading guilty on David's account", she relented.

He nodded. "I thought so."

"He is struggling, Tony."

"I know", Tony sighed, moving to lean against the counter. "Looks like neither of our talks had the desired effect."

"Do you really think this is all about Eliana being here?", Ziva asked doubtfully. She moved to drape a towel over the counter railing and kept her eyes on it for a while before she glanced back up at her partner. "Whatever it is that is going on between Tommy and David has been going on since long before she moved in."

"He's never gotten physical with anybody before, though", Tony held. "He's kinda running on zero tolerance right now."

Ziva nodded, her eyes wandering off into nothingness. "Let's go?"

"Let's."

Together they headed upstairs, passing Tali and Eliana in the living room. They both seemed immersed in the five-year-old's story, but Eliana's eyes caught Ziva's for just a second before the latter turned towards the stairs. Tony knocked on their son's door and a faint _'Come in'_ could be heard. The moment David spotted his parents he abandoned his book and relocated from his bed to his chair. He knew this was probably going to take a while, he just couldn't decide if he liked it or not.

"Ready to talk?", Tony asked before they fully entered the room. David gave a curt nod and they took a seat next to each other on his bed, facing him together.

"You know what we think about hitting and fighting in this family, yes?", Ziva started out.

David nodded. "It's not good?"

"No problem in the world can be so bad you have to fight someone for it", Tony added.

"But I didn't fight him."

"You pushed him, David. Then he hit you back. That qualifies as a fight alright."

David nodded, his eyes beginning to find great interest in the fabric of the carpet. "Mom was a spy. She fights."

Tony's eyes quickly darted towards his partner. Ziva was momentarily taken aback by that quiet assertion. He was right, wasn't he? She hadn't used the word _'spy'_ in her _Profession Day_ speech, but David had been exposed to enough, both in reality and in fiction, to make the connection by himself. He was right. Ziva was efficiently trained in hand-to-hand combat. She had learned, early on, that fighting was a way and, more often than not, the only way to handle any given situation. David knew that she was trained to fight. Sure, all NCIS Agents knew how to fight, but as Gibbs had once put it: _Tony's more a brawler_. Ziva was the fighter and Tony not missing an opportunity to call her his _'ninja'_ had certified that notion in their children's heads. David, especially, was sensitive to these little scraps of information about them.

"Yes, I fight", Ziva answered slowly, choosing her words with a care she had not had earlier in her life. "But I only fight to defend myself or to protect others. I do not fight to solve problems and I do not fight when what I should do is talk."

Both Ziva and Tony knew that was a lie. Maybe it wasn't a lie if they only took their present life into account, but it sure was a lie counting in her whole life, career and come-to-be. She had started many a fight and talking might have averted some. Then again, Ziva could say with some certainty and loving gladness that life was by far nicer to her son's childhood than it had ever been to hers.

"Okay?"

David nodded, briefly looking up at them. "'kay."

"You are much too smart for fighting, David", Ziva insisted. "You have words."

David's eyes shot up at her. Up until now it had all revolved around pushing Tommy and getting into a fight; even if it was a small fight, or barely a fight. His teacher had admonished him for fighting, the principle too, and so had his parents. All of a sudden, though, it was about knowing better and about disappointing his mom and dad. And that was far worse.

"Now, you wanna tell us what happened in your own words?", Tony asked then, searching the eight-year-old's eyes.

David slowly shook his head.

Ziva and Tony shared a glance. "You know, things do not get better by fighting. But maybe we can help, if you explain."

Still, the eight-year-old remained silent.

"Why Tommy, David? We thought he was your friend-"

"He's not my friend anymore", David declared with returned vigor.

"Why, tateleh?"

"'Cause he's mean and he's been telling lies."

Neither Tony, nor Ziva knew what to do with that piece of information. "About you? He's been spreading lies about you?", Tony tried.

"No", David clarified, looking at them defiantly. "About you."

"About us?"

"What's he been saying?"

"He- He said that before his dad died, lots of strange people turned up. And his dad was working all the time and he didn't see him a lot. And then he and his mom had to stay in a different house for a while. And suddenly his dad was dead", David recounted with the force of pent-up worry and anger and gnawing uncertainty.

They stared at their son in unison. In their minds they were walking further and further away from a pixelated image and were finally arriving at that one point, that one point of view, from which it all started to add up. Before his untimely death Tommy's dad had been with Metro's Drug Squad, which meant long-term undercover ops and delving deep into the scene. All of a sudden it was very clear where their son was coming from. Strange people, longer working hours, unsettling arrangements - there were too many parallels.

"And he said we- this was happening to you too?", Ziva went on cautiously.

David nodded. "When he heard 'bout grandma and that you were working much more and that Tali and I spent lots of time with Uncle Gibbs, he said you'd end up like his dad. That the bad guys you catch will come back and-"

"This will not happen to us, tateleh", Ziva reassured her son, trying to form a smile to match that assertion.

"We won't let it, you know that."

"But those bad guys don't like you for catching them."

"Not really." Tony couldn't suppress a small smile, warding off Ziva's glare.

"They'll want to get to you too, right?"

"They are in prison. They cannot get to us", Ziva reasoned.

They were trying to get an easy out here, but she knew that expression on David's face. She knew it from looking in the mirror and she knew it from looking at Tony: His mind was made up and he had inherited their stubbornness, and doubly so. Their eight-year-old was out for answers.

"They're not in prison forever, most of them aren't", he held. "Ms. Watson said that only really bad people go to prison forever, most of them get out again."

"Yes, but before they get out of prison, if they _ever_ get out of prison, they have to prove that they won't do anything bad again", Tony clarified. "Like going after the people who caught them."

"They have friends who are still doing bad things for them."

He sure had given the matter a lot of thought. Ziva was a little shocked just how much thought her little boy had invested in this. He must have been carrying those thoughts around with him for a long time. David was terrified of them leaving, going away, not coming back; they knew that. That was who he was; or maybe that was what their jobs had made of him.

"Tateleh, we always promise you that your dad and I are being very careful", Ziva assured him. "We are looking out for each other. And Uncle Tim is looking out for us. We promise you that."

David shook his head. "You can't promise that."

"Yes, we can promise to be careful", Ziva insisted. She reached forward and took his hand, pulling him and his swivel chair a little closer to them, and he didn't resist.

"You're right. Maybe we can't promise that some bad guy won't come around at times, like one's around right now", Tony said, shifting a little in his position to look more directly at his son. "But being careful is about _us. _It's about what your mom and I can do and what we do _really_ well. I never feel safer than when your mom's got my back."

Tony's smile hit Ziva like a promise echoing from long ago. She returned his smile, before turning back to David, her smile widening to a playful grin. "And your dad is not too bad at having my back either."

David couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes drifting downwards at the same time.

"David", Ziva said, her voice serious again. "You do not have to worry about us. We are still here and we will stay here. We are not leaving you."

He looked up at her with doubtful eyes. "I don't think Tommy's dad wanted to leave him either."

Tony's eyes flickered over to Ziva's for a second. "Buddy, do you trust us?", he asked.

"Yes", he pressed out in a small voice.

"Then you have to trust us on this one", Tony declared simply. "You have to trust us that we know what we're doing and that we will never, not ever, do anything that would make us leave you, okay?"

Ziva couldn't help but stare at her partner. Was she telling him often enough how great a father he was? Tony needed that assurance and she would give it to him, gladly and many times. Because it would all have been so much harder, if he weren't there beside her. He needed to hear that.

David slowly started to nod his head.

"You're stuck with us", Tony quipped, reaching out his hand to tousle his son's hair and managing to widen the small smile that had already begun tugging at the little boy's lips.

"We love you", Ziva declared. "More than you will ever know. That is enough to make us keep our promises."

"I love you too", he replied, leaning forward and throwing one arm around each of them. "I'm sorry."

"We know."

Ziva reached around him and ran her hand up and down his back. "But no more fighting just because, are we clear?"

"Yes, mom", he confirmed, drawing back. "But I really tried to ignore him like you said, but he wouldn't stop. And he said all these mean things and I just wanted him to leave, so I pushed him away from me."

"And that's our cue", Tony said. "We're going to have a little talk with Tommy's mom and we'll figure this one out together, deal?"

"Deal."

"Good."

"Do you want to come downstairs with us?", Ziva asked as she and Tony got up from the bed.

David shook his head. "Can I stay here?"

"Whatever you want."

Ziva offered him a small smile and dropped a kiss on his head on her way out while Tony issued a small, knowing wink before following her.

* * *

><p>He found her an hour later, sitting cross-legged on the footend of their bed, a book lying open before her. She wasn't reading, he could tell. Her eyelids barely moved. She was waiting for him. He couldn't bring himself to leave the frame of the door just yet, though. He had always admired her posture, how straight and unyielding her back aligned to an invisible backrest, held upright in spite of all that dared to weigh her down.<p>

"See something you like, Tony?", she breathed, her eyes teasing as they flickered up to meet his.

"Adoration is more like it", he replied, a smile settling on his face as he went to take a seat across from her.

Ziva tilted her head to the side, slowly closing the book. "You were great with him today, Tony", she stated, resting a hand on his leg. "You knew what he needed to hear and I do not think you realize how grateful I am for that."

"It's in the eyes, though", he said, running a finger gently over her eyebrows.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, a smile lifting it upwards at the ends. She leaned forward and captured his lips.

"This isn't all done, is it?", he asked when they pulled apart, their lips still gravitating close.

"No." She shook her head. "This we will have to deal with every time anew."

"We won't have a problem relating to it, that's for sure", he remarked, his eyes slightly narrowing.

They both noticed the sound of small, careful treads on the paneling. Tony watched Ziva's eyes divert and cast a glimpse over his shoulder. Standing there was David, his eyes set squarely on his mother. Tony recognized that look very well. He turned back around and planted another kiss on Ziva's lips.

"I'll go see what Tali's up to", he offered as he got up to leave the room, dropping an encouraging smile on his son on the way.

Ziva watched the eight-year-old shuffle over and take a stand in front of her. His eyes finally darted up at hers. "I'm sorry, mom", he mumbled.

"You already apologized, tateleh", she said. "Twice."

David shook his head. "I'm not apologizing for the fight", he clarified. "I'm sorry if I made you sad when I said that you were a spy and that you fight and all."

"I wasn't sad, David", she countered.

"You were too, mommy", he held. "And I didn't mean to make you."

Ziva fixed him with her eyes. She reached out and took both of his hands in hers, steering him to the spot beside her on the bed that Tony had just abandoned. "Look, my love", she said, "You were right. I was a spy and I do fight."

"But you're a good spy. And it's like you said, you really just fight to protect people", David argued, trying to tug his hands out of his mother's grasp, but Ziva kept a tight hold on them. "I was mad and I shouldn't have said-"

Ziva shook her head, inclining her head a little so as to catch her son's eyes. "I _was_ a spy, David. A very long time ago. I have been an NCIS Agent for a much longer time now. But being a spy is much, much more boring than it is in your father's movies, believe me", she explained, offering him a bright smile. "But yes, I tried to do good. I tried to serve my country and to help people."

"I know." David nodded. "You're my mom."

She laughed slightly at this, running a hand through his hair. "I am, and I always will be."

"I shouldn't have said it to try and hurt you, though. I was mad."

"That is true", Ziva admitted. "But I am very proud of you, you know that? It is a very grown-up thing of you to do, to come to me and apologize. And I accept your apology."

"So, we're good again?", he asked, a frown on his face.

"We are always good, David", she insisted, her eyes narrowing decidedly. "Even if one of us is angry or hurt, we are always good. You can always come to me, do you understand?"

The eight-year-old nodded his head. Taking the hint from his mother's smile and the way she slightly opened her arms, then, he finally inched a bit closer and wrapped his arms around her. Ziva held him close, kissing the side of his face.

"Mom?"

"Hm?"

"Can you read me a story tonight?", he asked coyly, his face turned into the crook of her neck.

"Of course, neshomeleh", Ziva promised, a smile on her face. Sometimes, she knew, sometimes her son would always be her little boy, no matter how much he had grown up in the meantime.

* * *

><p>Tony didn't have to go far to find his daughter. The little girl was, seeing as the door to the study was closed and Eliana probably inside, talking animatedly to herself or to whomever she had welcomed into her merry make-believe circle. Tony was pretty sure he could have just stayed there in the hallway and listened to her. Tali usually had the most amazing stories to tell. After all, nothing was further from rock bottom than his daughter's imagination.<p>

At the same time, he didn't want either Ziva or David to think that he was eavesdropping, so he eventually went into Tali's room anyway. From the doorframe he watched her surveying a pile of blankets that she must have collected from all over the apartment. At one point she started tugging and pushing and dragging around her chair and the one half of a doll house Gibbs had built for her (second half pending her sixth birthday). He could feel his face twist with a goofy grin.

The second she laid eyes on him, however, the talking stopped and she darted over, planting herself right in front of him, toes against toes. She dipped her head back, farther and farther, rolling her eyes up at him. "You're a tall daddy", she asserted.

Tony couldn't keep from laughing. "Amongst other handsome things."

"You can help me", she declared then, grabbing Tony's hand and leading him over.

Tony stood still and didn't dare move from the spot where Tali had let go of him. His eyes narrowed, but other than that he remained silent, just watching her browse through the pile of blankets that was, he found to his surprise, hiding even more pillowcases. Whatever it was that she was planning to do with them, they would have a field day returning all that stuff to its rightful place.

"David didn't wanna play", Tali remarked, a sigh falling from her lips. "He said he was bad and wasn't allowed. Why doesn't he get to play, daddy?"

Tony threw his head back. "Your mom and I didn't say that he couldn't play, princess."

"Then he's making himself."

"Making himself what, honey?", Tony asked softly, squatting down and reaching out to get his daughter to look at him without being distracted by plans budding in her mind.

"When Deed thinks he's been bad, daddy", Tali explained in a matter-of-fact tone. "Then he makes himself not do stuff, 'cause he thinks he's not s'posed to." Tali tilted her head to the side. "But you gotta make him feel better 'bout it, daddy, when he wasn't really bad at all."

Tony offered her a smile. "Your mom's working on it."

"'kay."

With that Tali returned to the more pressing tasks of her little project and started handing him blankets and issuing orders as to where they were supposed to be going. After a while Tony realized that they were building a castle, in Tali's words; or simply a cave out of blankets, in his words. When Tali's plans had collapsed on top of her the second time around, she finally resigned herself to trying out Tony's suggestions. They were done with the roof of her cuddly future residence, when Tony decided it was safe to initiate another conversation.

"You and your grandma had a good talk today, princess?"

"Uh-huh", Tali nodded. "A really long talk."

"Was she nice?"

"Yep, real nice", Tali confirmed. "She finished the game with me for Sarah and then she made me cocoa and asked about school and my play."

Tony smiled, already looking forward to his little girl standing up on that stage and reciting the words he had been practicing with her almost every day. "And you told her all about it?"

Tali nodded, starting to select some of her stuffed animals to stand guard before the entrance. "And I told her that we all get to say our names really loud after."

"You do?" Tony was surprised to hear of that particular detail.

"Yes, daddy", Tali insisted, rolling her eyes. "So ev'ryone knows who the act- the actors are."

"Of course, princess", Tony said, bowing his head a little. "Your dad's just a little slow sometimes."

"It's okay. Then she said I have her name", Tali went on.

"That's right, honey", Tony confirmed. "You have both of your grandmas' names."

Tali nodded again. "I know, 's what I told her. And I told her I made sure my daddy's not sad 'cause his mommy didn't come back."

The grin was barely gone from his face, when it already returned to full grandeur. He remembered their little talk from two days ago, how his daughter had crawled into his lap and had asked him, sincerely, if he was feeling bad about his mommy still being gone. Ziva had been in the other room and he had practically been able to hear her smile and listen carefully as he had explained to Tali that he wasn't sad, but happy for Ziva and happy for the family that he had. He had still ended up promising his five-year-old daughter that she would be the first to know if he ever did feel sad about it.

"And- and I told her that Deed's always really nice and knows it's bad to yell at people. And that he's the bestest big brother", Tali continued, nodding no less determinedly. "But he doesn't like seein' people sad, 'specially mommy. And mommy's not real happy yet that she's here, but she's smiling more now and mommy's smiles are always good."

Tony stared at his daughter. The amount and speed of words tumbling out of her five-year-old mouth never ceased to amaze him. "So, you had a really, really long talk."

"Told ya", Tali said with a shrug, before going over to him and putting both of her hands squarely on his chest. "When she wants to be our family, she has to know all that, daddy."

Tony took one of her hands in his and planted a kiss on it. "Thank you for doing such a great job about it", he praised, eliciting a proud smile on her face. "Anything else you made sure she knows?"

Tali shook her head. "She just asked if I know Hebrew and I said yes and then she asked if I know what _'family'_ is."

"Do you?"

Tali nodded eagerly. "Mishbacha", she said, nailing the pronunciation in a way that would have made Ziva wholeheartedly proud.

"That's right, princess", Tony said, running a hand down her dark curls. "That's absolutely right."


	38. Spinning into Stand-Still

_As promised. Big steps towards the end. Final chapter is written. T-10 chapters to go._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 38 Spinning into Stand-Still <strong>

**Wednesday, April 14****th**** 2021**

Early that morning Tony had found a message on his phone from Director Vance asking them to bring Eliana along to NCIS. It had taken him a full four seconds to realize that this wasn't as unusual as his initial feeling had made it out to be: First and foremost, Eliana was their protection detail. Even if the past few days had felt less and less like that was the only, or even the primary, thing that they were doing here. In point of fact, it was hard to say what they were really doing here at all. Maybe it had something to do with the word _mishbacha_ resounding in his head, but he wasn't entirely sure.

Ziva had appeared less perturbed by Vance's message; at least openly. Then again, Tony aptly interpreted the questioning look she had given him on their way out of the door. They had had little time to dwell on it, though, as McGee had greeted them with a new turn of events in their current case. The night before he had identified the money trail they had been fishing for and Tony had quickly pushed a warrant through, obliging them to leave again half an hour after they had arrived at the office. Eliana had assured them of her best behavior, a small smile on her face, as she was left in the bullpen.

Once they had returned to the squadroom to follow up a successful bust, however, Eliana was nowhere to be seen. Instead, they found Ducky waiting for them. Dressed in suit and bow tie, he was sitting behind Tony's desk and soon became the center point of attention as all three of them gathered around him.

"Ducky", McGee observed, his head tilting a little to the side.

Tony eyed the man, who was sitting in his chair, somewhat suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

"Not that we are not always happy to see you", Ziva added, surveying the bullpen. "Where is Eliana?"

Ducky released a small batch of breath as he got up and stretched, offering them a good-natured smile. "I am here to offer my professional standing in the second phase of our plan", he explained simply.

"Second phase?", Tony repeated. He started to move behind his desk and, in doing so, slowly edged Ducky out, until they had comfortably swapped places.

Ducky nodded. "In the matter of Kadeer Haswari and your mother, Ziva."

Tony and Ziva shared a glance. They both realized that things had not exactly gone according to their initial plan and orders. The last couple of days certainly hadn't felt like the standard protection detail, and they weren't sure that was a good thing. Eliana had either been cooped up inside their apartment or they had awkwardly jitterbugged through their days. They certainly had not established any routines whatsoever - quite obviously, the key part of Ducky's assessment of Kadeer.

"Not at all cause for worry, I assure you", Ducky cut in, breaking their connection and easily interpreting it at the same time. "We merely made use of the window of opportunity that was in offering. Kadeer did not act rashly and that is a good sign. The first phase of the plan worked out rather brilliantly, if I may say so."

Ziva's eyes narrowed as her backpack slipped to the floor behind her desk. "First phase?"

"Yes", Ducky confirmed, stepping over to her. "You assured Eliana's safety. But it is essential that we move her outside now, make her openly visible. Or Kadeer will feel forced to act more proactively again in order to get to her."

"So?"

"That's where I come in, DiNozzo", Gibbs' booming voice replied.

"And where I can help", Vance added, coming down the stairs alongside Gibbs. Both men took a stand in the middle of the bullpen.

"Am I the only one who's totally lost now?" McGee looked alternately at all the occupants of the bullpen, a bewildered look on his face.

"Apart from a protection detail provided by you, Agents David and DiNozzo, Eliana will be put under surveillance by an NCIS unit every day while you are at work", Vance explained. "Team's in waiting as we speak."

"Eliana is currently briefed on the densely orchestrated morning routine that we hope will get Kadeer Haswari to…_bite_", Ducky added, putting particular emphasis on the last word and shifting his eyes to Ziva.

Ziva, in turn, crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And Gibbs?"

"I'll take on some of it", Gibbs said. "Harder to place than you."

"Rule #27", Tony realized.

Gibbs nodded. "First part."

"Isn't Rule #27 about following suspects?", McGee asked.

"Special circumstances, McGee."

"Reports will be fed back to you, Agent DiNozzo", Vance added.

A crooked smile appeared on Gibbs' face as he turned to look at Tony. "Boss."

Tony couldn't suppress the small laugh that escaped his lips. "And in the afternoon? Evenings?"

"Agent David will be home by four at the latest", Vance said. "Take your mother to the grocery store. Go for a walk in the park. Doesn't matter. The rest of the day she's your responsibility, full-on protection detail."

Ziva and Tony shared a glance. Vance then produced a few sheets of paper from behind his back and presented them to all the agents gathered in the bullpen.

Tony's eyes skimmed over it. "Wow... Time table. With five columns."

"You really did not think that we would be able to pull this off by ourselves, did you?", Ziva griped, her eyes still glued to the meticulous plan for Eliana's whereabouts. Now, this looked more like a strategy.

Gibbs stepped forward, placing his body between Ziva and Director Vance, his eyes fixed on her, silently, before she tilted her head enough to make eye-contact with him. "Small steps, Ziver."

"There was no doubt you'd be able to keep her safe", Vance insisted, looking between her and Tony. "But now it's about putting her on display. We're simply trying to lend a helping hand there."

"No one can be expected to settle into routines from one day to the next", Ducky added, the confidence in his words making both Tony and Ziva set their eyes on him. "And no one can be expected to put on the line that which is to be protected."

* * *

><p>"I don't get it", McGee exclaimed, stepping off the elevator alongside Tony and Ziva.<p>

"It's about making Kadeer think he's on top of it", Tony grumbled, walking towards Abby's lab. "What's not to get?"

"The part where we were not told all the details of the plan from the start?", Ziva put in, her eyes narrowed as they entered to the drum beat of Abby's music.

"Guys. It's not so hard, really." Abby whipped around to face them. "Ducky knew how hard it would be to let Eliana into your home. Don't mind that Ziva still feels hurt and betrayed by the fact that Eliana's back and unsure how she can get past all of it, because a part of her really wants to. Don't mind that Tony's doing the best he can for everyone while still trying to deal with the weird feelings of resentment he has. But there's also the kids, who don't know their grandma and see how confused their parents are, but still gotta deal with it somehow, even if they are too young to understand. Your part in this is not getting _Kadeer_, it's _protecting_ Eliana from him. Your family? NCIS? They will get him. They'll get him _for_ you."

All three of them - Tony, Ziva and McGee alike - standing close after passing through the doorframe together, were alternately staring at each other and Abby. She had a smile on her face, a big smile, a comforting smile.

Tony threw his head back. "There's no questioning Abby's insight into the NCIS condition, is there?"

"I guess not", Ziva agreed.

"Talking about kids", McGee said, blatantly changing the topic. "How is David?"

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, McSegue?"

"Yes, what's that I hear about a fight?", Abby asked, ignoring the probing stare sizzling between her husband and friend.

"It was not really a fight", Ziva replied quickly, her eyes flickering to Tony.

"Yeah, but that's David we're talking about, right?", McGee cut in. "Raising his voice basically counts as a fight."

Now it was Tony's turn to search for Ziva's eyes. "Well, we had that too, recently."

"If this is all about Eliana living with you...", Abby said, her face instantly coating in worry, "I mean, there's other ways to-"

"The _getting-mad-at-Eliana_ incident sure was about Eliana", Tony retorted.

"But the fight...", Ziva started vaguely, her eyes again drifting towards Tony. "David is very aware of the risks we take, much more so than Tali. And all this talk about bad men and his grandmother returning. Those are not good signs to him. He can feel that we are not in control and it is scaring him. He knows things are not just perfectly fine."

Up until now she and Tony had refrained from voicing their mutual worries, sounding them out, saying them out loud, allowing them to be overly real. They both knew those worries were there and they each had a pretty good idea what the other one was thinking. But right now Tony could only stare at his partner. This was very real, indeed.

"It's not all Eliana", Tony added, his eyes still on Ziva. "It's the whole thing we have here."

Abby and McGee nodded in understanding, studying their friends' expressions closely. It was almost comical, in a not-so-comical way. Tony and Ziva were so alike in that they seldom granted themselves a break from the masks they were wearing, tightly wrapped around their faces and hearts, whenever they were at work. Those masks only came off at the threshold of the home they had built for themselves. However, when work and their family life were entwined in a tight, unceremonious mesh like they were now, those masks showed frequent cracks. And at cracks Abby and McGee were looking now.

"We've always gotten through it before", Abby assured them, proffering another bright smile. "Everything. We'll get through it now. Don't worry-"

"Abs-"

"I know, you worry anyway. But don't worry excessively, okay?", she corrected herself quickly.

"We're taking it in waves", Tony quipped, a small smile appearing on his face.

"So, they're adjusting to having Eliana around?"

Ziva gave a breathy laugh. "Slowly."

Abby's head dipped to the side, her eyes now fixed on her best friend. "And you?"

The beginning of a coy smile tugged at the edges of Ziva's lips, but she soon broke eye-contact with Abby and turned to Tony instead. "If I am free to leave early today-"

"You can go and talk to Rebecca when you pick up David", Tony finished for her. Ziva nodded. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Abby and McGee recognized the reservation they were running up against, sharing a knowing look. In a familiar routine of wordless conversation McGee raised a single eyebrow and Abby nodded her agreement.

"So, we were meaning to ask you guys", McGee started, regaining their full attention, "You know that Nolan- Liora's biological father. That he came to talk to us at the office?"

"Yes."

"And he asked us for a meeting, so he'd get to see Liora…_once_", Abby went on, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You agreed?", Ziva asked, her eyes narrowing.

Abby nodded. "We did."

"But we said that we'd have you guys over as well, make it less awkward for everyone", McGee added quickly.

Abby glanced at her husband. "So, I guess, what we were trying to say was, if you guys-"

"When is it?", Tony asked and answered at the same time, an offhand smile playing on his face.

"Saturday? Four-ish?"

"We will be there", Ziva assured them and promptly welcomed a hug from Abby.

"Thanks, guys."

"Family, right?", Tony said. He looked around at them, collecting their nods, until his eyes settled on Ziva.

"Right", she confirmed.

After they had exchanged a few details about Saturday afternoon and after McGee and Abby had agreed on who would pick up Liora, all three agents soon left the lab in quick succession. Abby was left alone, but only for two seconds before Tony reappeared, scratching his temple.

"Actually, I came down here to get the samples for interrogation", he said.

Abby smirked, stepped over and handed him the two translucent bags that lay in waiting on the evidence table.

"Thanks, Abs", he replied, giving her a sincere smile.

"Always my pleasure."

* * *

><p>"What a coincidence", Vance remarked.<p>

A lopsided smile sprang to his face the moment the doors had shifted far enough aside to reveal Eliana standing in dark clothes against the orange-ness of the walls in the background. Eliana's head dipped a little to the side as she boarded the elevator, settling in beside him.

"I bet it is", she retorted.

Vance nodded his head, not looking at her. He waited for the doors to enclose them in privacy before jabbing the emergency switch and yanking them to an immediate halt. Eliana, not used to this very familiar praxis, stared at him for a second, her distrustful eyes instantly roaming the metal insides so as to check for emergency exits and other ways of defense - not that she had to expect anything of the sort from Leon; it was force of habit, really.

He turned around to face her, a full smile now adorning his face. "Eliana."

She gave a small laugh. "Leon."

"The last time I saw you, that is, _before_ you knocked on the window of my car last week... You were wearing a yellow gown and standing in a ballroom", he remembered, his eyelids tipping down only marginally.

"The Ambassador's reception." She nodded, folding her arms in front of her chest. "Ziva and Tali made me wear yellow that night. It was their favorite color back then."

Vance, in turn, folded his hands behind his back and straightened up in front of her. "You snatched the Champagne right out of my hand and told me to lay off the alcohol if I ever wanted to get a personal invitation to these things."

"Because you were too honest even without it", she said, repeating her words from over thirty years ago.

Vance chuckled. "After I had started our conversation by asking whether you and Eli had reconciled."

"We never quite did", Eliana replied, a sigh on her lips. Letting her eyes drift upwards, however, she added, "But I see you took my advice to heart."

"I did." He nodded. "Can't say it's ever been an easy trade-off, though."

"I know. I would not have told you otherwise."

"You were briefed?", Vance asked then.

Eliana fell silent for a moment to honor the sudden change of topic. She hadn't known Leon Vance for long before their paths had necessarily bifurcated. Then again, neither Vance, nor Eli had lived overly covert lives among the upper ranks of their chosen and respective institutions. It had been less of an effort to keep up with his development. Over the years he had managed to prove all her initial feelings about him right.

Eliana released a small breath. "If it helps to catch Kadeer without more harm done to anyone but me, then I am willing to submit to any kind of plan."

Vance laughed slightly. "You don't believe in psychology."

"No, I do", she admitted. "I just hope it will be enough."

"And how are you settling in?"

"I am bringing chaos to their lives." She moved her head to the side. "But that should not come as a surprise to you."

"Are you surprised?"

"I am-", she started, but quickly broke herself off. Sentences starting with _'I am'_ had proven to be the most difficult to finish for her - maybe not throughout all of her life, but now they certainly were the hardest. "I am trying to focus on my grandchildren. Ziva, I- I cannot force into anything."

"No one could." Vance offered her a small, encouraging smile. "On second thought, maybe her kids could. They get that from DiNozzo."

Eliana nodded in half-amused understanding and Vance moved to bring the elevator back to life. "Did you bring her here? To NCIS?", she asked at once, stopping him short.

Vance shook his head. "My predecessor did. Jenny Shepard."

"Ziva and she were friends?"

"Yes."

"She is dead."

"Yes." He nodded. "Killed by her own demons."

Once again, Vance reached for the emergency switch. He could see Eliana debate another question with herself, but this time she waited until he had flipped the switch, the lights were coming back on and they unsteadily recommenced their ascension.

"Would you have at some point? If Shepard hadn't?", she inquired, her voice low and quiet.

The doors opened, squadroom noises crashing in on them.

He nodded. "I would have tried."

* * *

><p>Ziva glanced at her wrist watch. It really was unusually early for her to be out of the office during an active case, finished for the day, free to pick up her son and take him home. She would relieve Sarah and then spend a good portion of the afternoon with both Tali and David, just the three of them. Eliana had returned to the bullpen a while ago and reclaimed her silent spot, before leaving again with one of the units covering her in the following days to set up appearances. Ziva was still unsure about the whole plan, but she knew there was nothing else to do but trust, and maybe hope.<p>

The fact of the matter was, she was going to get to spend an afternoon alone with her children and she was positively looking forward to it. No doubt, she loved her family-of-four, seeing Tony with the kids, but she sometimes just treasured time alone with them. She just wanted to make a late lunch and help with homework, sit on the couch and watch them play, read a book with them, listen to their stories. It sometimes felt like such a rare treat to just be a mom - and not a mom with agent sprinkled on the side or vice versa.

When she spotted Rebecca, Tommy's mother, two rows away from her in the parking lot of Gavington Elementary, Ziva started an unceremonious approach. Recognizing the poise, Rebecca promptly came up to her. The two met in a kiss on the cheek.

"I expected Tony or you out here, or I would've called yesterday", Rebecca clarified quickly, acknowledging the solemn look on Ziva's face.

Ziva nodded. "I got off early."

"So, shall we get right to it then?"

Ziva had always appreciated Rebecca's offhand nature. Straightforward attitudes she had always had an easier time interacting with than the nudge-nudge-blink-blink, backstabbing kinds.

"David has been telling me for weeks that someone was bothering him. He never actually admitted that it was Tommy, but it has been going on for a while", Ziva stated, cutting right to the chase.

"I know and I didn't realize. I'm really sorry, Ziva", Rebecca replied, reaching for the sunglasses she had propped up on her head and folding them up in her hands. "Tommy's going through a lot right now, you know? First the anniversary of Brian's death and then that thing with me-"

"What about you?", Ziva inquired, her eyes briefly dropping to Rebecca's hands and the way they were toying with the temples of her glasses.

"I had to take a promotion that I would've never accepted if Brian was still alive", she said, brushing the immanence of her husband's death away with an isolated shrug of the shoulder. "I'm working longer hours, I'm working weekends. I have to, we barely scrape by as it is."

"I understand that, I really do. I know that the two of you have not had it easy", Ziva said, offering her a small smile. "But ever since my accident, David-"

Rebecca nodded. "I know. I talked to Tommy about it. He shouldn't have let his anger out on David."

"No, they both should not have", Ziva retorted.

"Right. What is that I hear about you? Your mother moved in?", Rebecca inquired, her forehead creasing in wrinkles.

Ziva gave a soft laugh. "Yes, you heard right."

"You never talked about her. I'm sorry, I always assumed she was dead-"

"Mossad."

Rebecca nodded, recognizing the limits of not pushing beyond that word. "Can't be an easy adjustment for the kids."

"Tali seems to be managing fine. My mother… She has her shortcomings, but she is a good person. Tali is drawn to that", Ziva explained, her eyes briefly wandering off in memories of her daughter and mother throughout the past few days.

Rebecca shook her head. "If we're struggling as adults… Kids shouldn't nearly have to deal with the same things."

A light breath passed Ziva's lips. Her head jolted to the side. "Not nearly, no."

The small understanding smile they shared was promptly broken, when Tommy arrived at the pair. He greeted his mother before turning to Ziva. "Hello, Ms. David."

"Hello, Tommy."

Knowingly, Ziva then cast her eyes back up towards the school entrance and sure enough, David was only a few feet away from her. The eight-year-old's face had visibly lit up upon seeing his mother, but soon settled back into utter blankness when he noticed Rebecca and Tommy beside her. He offered Ziva a small smile, standing unconsciously close to her as he turned to offer a small wave to the other woman.

Rebecca bowed down a little and alternately looked at the two boys. "You two have anything to say to each other?"

"Ms. Watson already made us apologize yesterday, mom."

"And we did."

"Well, did you mean it?"

Rebecca was speaking more to her son than she was to David, but rolling his eyes up at Ziva the eight-year-old detected the same telling expression of raised eyebrows and a thin line standing in for her smile.

With a bit of wordless coaxing, Tommy eventually moved in front of David. He pondered his words for a moment before they finally just tumbled out of his mouth in a single breath. "Do you wanna come over to play?" He tilted his head to look up at Rebecca and she nodded. "Tomorrow?"

David's first reaction was to decline. Before sounding out any words, however, he could feel his mom's hand on his back, as though she wanted to gently shove him towards a more affirmative decision. He sighed inwardly.

"Okay", he said.

The little boy's voice was far from enthusiastic, but it was positive enough. Tommy nodded, obviously satisfied about the way he had handled the issue. Rebecca and Ziva quickly exchanged some details to certify their truce and then bid their goodbyes. While she led David back to the car, Ziva was silently trying to figure out how to phrase Rebecca's explanation for Tommy's behavior in a way so David would understand his best friend's actions. She glanced down at her son. David was holding her hand and walking along beside her, his expression pensive. There probably was no need to worry about that anyway. Her son was exceptionally good at understanding other people. She cherished that ability of his. She just hoped he would not come across too many people in his life who knew how to take advantage of it.

"Hey, mom?", David called out after he had buckled himself in.

Ziva stopped herself from closing the door on his side and turned back. "Yes, tateleh?"

"Love you."

A smile sprang to Ziva's face. It really was so easy sometimes. "I love you too."

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon Tali walked into the kitchen from where she had been playing in the living room just to stop abruptly to process the scene presenting itself to her: Her dad and Eliana were standing at the counter, engrossed in a constant back-and-forth over what appeared to be dinner preparations. What seemed even odder, though, was how her dad was cooking and her grandma was just standing there, issuing ideas and instructions. Casting her irritations aside, the little girl stalked up to Eliana and tugged on the woman's arm. When Eliana bowed her head down to look at her, a smile settled on Tali's face.<p>

"Can I have a glass of water, please?", she requested.

"Of course, tateleh", Eliana replied, reaching up to fetch a glass from the upper shelf and unaware of the way Tony's head had whipped around at them.

After Eliana had filled the glass, she handed it to the little girl. Tali took it with a grateful nod, but clearly had lost any immanent interest in it for now. Instead, her head was tilted to the side and her eyes were narrowed to inquisitive slits.

"Is something wrong, Tali?", Eliana asked.

"That's what mommy says."

"What is?"

"Tateleh", Tali clarified, emphasizing every syllable. "That's what mommy calls Deed and me."

David looked up from his position at the kitchen table upon hearing his name, starting to follow the conversation between grandmother and granddaughter with the same quiet curiosity as his father.

"She does, doesn't she?", Eliana replied, recalling the many occasions she had heard Ziva's voice sounding out that particular term of endearment. "It is what I used to call your mother and her siblings when they were as old as you."

"Mommy got it from you?"

Eliana nodded. "Yes. But it is hers to use now. I shall think of something else, yes?"

Tali mimicked her nod. "Uh-huh."

"I will."

Tali stared at her for another minute as if putting the smile on Eliana's face to a test for authentic longevity. With a final nod, she turned her attention to the glass in her hand. After she had gulped down half of it, she handed it back to Eliana; dutifully minding the rule that had been established after she had soaked the couch in orange juice during a game of Catch with her brother. While Tali contentedly went back the living room, David returned to his Hebrew homework. It wasn't going too well, however, judging from the symphony of frustration that had been coming from the eight-year-old in the past half-hour.

"Your mom will be back in a bit to help you, okay?", Tony remarked upon David's second grunt in under thirty seconds.

When Tony had arrived home, Ziva had met him in the foyer and claimed they were out of something-or-other. He didn't remember. It wasn't important, because it wasn't about something-or-other anyway. Just because they could pin a date on it, didn't mean that April 15th had any clear edges whatsoever. He had no idea where she had actually gone, but he knew there was a reason why he didn't know - some things were hers to have. He wasn't worried, at least not as much as he could have been. He knew she would be back soon.

Eliana glanced over at the eight-year-old and the book lying open in front of him. She took a step forward. "I do know Hebrew as well. Maybe I can help?"

"I don't need-", David started, but was quickly alerted to the way his dad's eyebrows shot up. "No, thanks. I can wait for mom", he corrected himself, softening his tone only marginally.

Eliana cast a look over her shoulder at Tony, catching him in the split second of hiding his reprimanding expression behind a small smile. "It is quite alright", she said, focusing back on David. "You have every right to be angry at me. I am disrupting your life and I hurt your mother. I find it very honorable, your loyalty to her."

David abandoned his homework for the time being and knitted his eyebrows together. "What's loyalty mean?"

"Being loyal to someone means that whatever someone does, or whatever others do, you are always on that person's side", Eliana explained, settling down on a chair next to him. "It means trusting and believing someone no matter what."

David thought about this for a second, his eyes fixed on his grandmother. "Then I'm loyal to my mom."

Eliana nodded. "But I think I know what your problem is with this", she said, tapping the page in front of him lightly with her finger. "So, maybe, being loyal to your mother does not have to stop you from accepting my help?"

For a while David just alternated his gaze between Eliana's gently smiling face and the glaring emptiness of the exercise book. Then he reached out and turned it around, so Eliana could get a better look at it.

"I just can't get it right", he said quietly, studying her reaction closely.

Eliana held on to her smile and started reading. Then, after only a minute, Tony heard Eliana speak Hebrew for the very first time. David was used to sudden changes between Hebrew and English from whenever he was studying with Ziva, or Ziva was quizzing him, or Tony wasn't home and they adopted it as the language of the day. Tony couldn't follow a word of what they were saying, but by the sheer sounds of it David had just accepted Eliana's help and he was soon scribbling things down, nodding along in understanding.

It was good fifteen minutes later that Tony looked back up and found Ziva standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a noticeably half-empty bag of groceries clasped in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on her son and mother, her mind swept up in the sounds of her native language - and her mother speaking it. It wasn't easy to discern all the emotions that were running havoc on Ziva's face as Tony studied her.

When Ziva finally tore herself away from her spot at the door, she walked over to David and brushed a kiss against his hair. "Shalom, tateleh."

David looked up at her with a bright, accomplished smile. "Ani mevin."

Ziva returned his smile before turning to look at Eliana. "Todah."

* * *

><p>After Tali had succumbed to sleep halfway through the first chapter, Ziva quietly crept out into the hallway. She still left the little girl's door ajar. Ever since the almost-kidnapping Tali had reactivated her habit of relocating to Tony's and her bedroom in the middle of the night. Ziva heard Tony laugh downstairs and couldn't help but smile. It seemed odd, especially knowing Tony's offhand persona, but a real, honest, joyful laugh from her partner was a sight and sound to treasure. He didn't do it often, and he didn't do it lightly. They were very similar that way.<p>

She then walked over to David's room, knocked gently and peeked in through a crack in the door to find him reading on his bed. He looked up and offered her a smile. True to her expectations, David had understood about Tommy and promised not to hold it against his friend. Ziva hadn't actively initiated that, she hadn't just told her son that it might be healthier to try and not hold a grudge. David had said so on his own accord and it was then that Ziva had realized, once again, one of the very real differences between her own and her children's lives: Her son would always be able to forgive, just like her sister Tali had been; an ability Ziva had always had the hardest time forcing herself to learn.

"Layla tov, tateleh", she said.

"Night, mom."

As Ziva turned back into the hallway she noticed the distinct sound of the bathroom door. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Eliana walk past her, offering a small smile en route. She watched as the older woman vanished in the study. Ziva leaned against the wall in front of her son's room, dipping her head back, and stared at the door across from her.

Today she had been overwhelmed - not because Tali or David had been in a particularly trying mood. Quite the contrary. They had cooked together, played, laughed, told each other stories. She had not, for a long time, spent an afternoon in such, almost mindless, ease than she had spent today. Shortly before setting out to start on dinner, however, it had hit her. Maybe it had been the moment Tali had thrown her arms around her for no other reason than wanting a cuddle; maybe it had been the moment David had promised to give Tommy another chance; maybe it had been the bundled package of experiences that afternoon. It didn't matter, really.

It had hit her with the emotional force of a 7.5-tonner, leaving her gasping for air. She had scrambled up to go into the kitchen, drink a glass of water, hold her head into the freezer. She had been so grateful for Tony's voice calling out to the kids from the foyer at that moment and had quickly gone to greet him and simultaneously leave him in charge of dinner, kids, evening, Eliana. She didn't even want to imagine how hard things would have still been for them, if Tony couldn't just understand with a brief glance, a knowing look, a fleeting touch.

Pushing herself away from the wall, Ziva crossed the hallway and stepped into the study. Eliana's eyes shot up at her immediately, but the questions in them remained unvoiced.

"Thank you for helping out today", Ziva said, not really sure why she had come in here in the first place. "With dinner and… David's homework."

Eliana slowly nodded her head. "You are very welcome." Ziva mimicked her movements and was just about to leave again, when Eliana called her back. "I am truly sorry if my presence is a source of hurt for your children."

With a small sigh Ziva turned back around to face her. "If the situation were any different, it would probably still have happened. One way or another. David's problem is not so much about you as it is about what Tony and I do for a living."

"I am sure my being here does not make it any easier on them", Eliana held.

A small laugh got stuck somewhere in Ziva's chest and she took a few steps into the room. Her eyes briefly dropped to the floor as she ran a hand through her hair. "I can think of many words to describe my life with. But _'easy'_ is not one of them."

Eliana waited for a small, self-deprecating smile to appear on Ziva's lips, before allowing a quiet chuckle to escape her lips. "For your past maybe. But from where I am standing and from what I can see, Tony and you make it look very easy."

Ziva dipped her head a little to the side. "We are both gifted actors when it comes to upholding appearances."

"I know the act, but you are not acting", Eliana countered, sitting up straight on the couch and looking up at her daughter. "This line of work, it is hard to do any day. But with kids it is so, so much harder. Your father and I, we failed at it."

"Makes you wonder, yes?"

"You and Tony", Eliana declared simply, "You are far from failing."

"Sometimes it feels very much like we are."

"That is parenting. If you do not feel like you are failing sometimes, you are not trying hard enough."

Ziva laughed slightly at this, recognizing the truth value of that statement. Tali and David were going through a lot lately, change and reconfiguration, and yet she had just handed them over to their dreams, with smiles and cuddles and love. There was little more she could do.

"Why are you talking to me?", Eliana inquired all of a sudden.

Ziva gave her a bewildered look. "I talked to you before, you know."

"Ziva…"

She took a deep breath, her gaze drifting off. "After all those years of Mossad training I have found that the best way to see if someone can be trusted, is the way they treat my children."

A smile came to settle on Eliana's face, her eyes briefly roaming the room, taking in the memories, pictures and books and memorabilia that adorned it. "You and Tony are raising them well."

"Or we are just allowing them to be who they are."

"Maybe." Eliana nodded. "They can be our second chance, yes?"

Ziva returned her mother's nod. "Maybe."


	39. Beyond, an Echo

**Chap 39 Beyond, an Echo**

**Thursday, April 15****th**** 2021**

April 15th. Tony had been staring at his phone, gleaming in the darkness of the bedroom, for more than twenty minutes, his eyes fixed on the date display in the upper right corner. He kept stabbing the screen every two minutes, trying to keep his phone from fading to black. He couldn't have it fade to black. Today wasn't a day for fading; or a day for black, for that matter. Today was April 15th.

His eyes flickered over his shoulder and landed on Ziva. She was still sleeping. She wasn't going to go for a run this morning. Her alarm wouldn't go off for another fifteen minutes, give or take. He hadn't been there for April 15th twice because of Spain. He had sworn that would never happen again. He was going to be there every time and he was going to be there, awake, conscious, for whatever she needed on that day. There were only a few days that he had to mind throughout a year, only a few days that mattered heavily to Ziva; only a few days that impacted on her unlike any other birthday, anniversary or national holiday. Today was one of those days.

April 15th was Tali David's birthday.

Personally, he had no actual way of relating to the pain Ziva felt on that day, or the joy for having known a sibling's love. For all intents and purposes, however, Tony was pretty sure that the terror he felt whenever he even tried to imagine anything happening to his kids, or the sheer elation at any memory of them, were coming pretty close in all.

Ari's birthday, in August, was a dimming light on Ziva's smiles as well, but not nearly as much as Tali's. Things had ended differently for brother and sister. Ziva usually went to the Synagogue on the day he died, and asked for forgiveness. However, it were Tali's birthdays that were the most difficult for her. This year, on top of it all, he had no idea what to expect. Ziva had gone to bed early yesterday, leaving him to the TV's sole entertainment soon after finishing a few things for work. He had kissed her. He hadn't questioned her.

He remembered the week of April 15th from ten years ago, in 2011. It certainly wasn't a coincidence that April 23rd, their personal anniversary, and her baby sister's birthday were in such close proximity. In fact, if you thought about it, the immediacy of those days, their meaning and significance, could stand in as a summary of Ziva's life.

It had been in 2011 when Ziva had opened up to him about it for the very first time; even after all those years of knowing her. Tali, after all, had always held such a special place in Ziva's heart that after that day, after April 15th that year, their relationship had been sealed for life. What he knew, after that day, nobody else ever would.

Back then, in April 2011, they had been more solid than ever; comfortably stuck between a moss-grown tree trunk and a good place. They had just gone through a pregnancy scare and come out strong. They had just started looking for an apartment together. If asked his opinion, he had honestly thought that perfect wasn't too close a call away - and then, all of a sudden, Ziva had withdrawn completely. He had not known back then. All he had known of Tali David back then was what a different Ziva had told him outside of the _Embasero Hotel_, and the odd scrap of something that had been fast re-concealed a second later.

2011 had been the 10th anniversary of Tali's death and Ziva had been terrified of going ever further away from her little sister after all that she had gone through, all the change, the shed and reconfiguration; and after her revenge had played out oh-so capriciously. Ziva had called in sick that week and stayed cooped up in her apartment. It had been almost surreal, as though stepping into a very dark, twisty and realist painting, when he had finally stepped foot into it, shades drawn, violin music blaring, and Ziva, looking tired and worn and so in tune with the scenery it had broken his heart. Looking back, some part of her might have been sitting _Shiva_, or something more unfitting to that effect. She had told him to leave, yelled, screamed, cried, threatened physical harm, thrown real estate magazines at him. He had refused and he had stayed, ducking at times, not ducking at other times - until she had finally broken down.

After holding her and listening to her, he had helped her clean herself up. He had offered his part in her mourning and she had accepted, first taking him to the one place she knew sold _gagea dayana_ - a place he had returned to many times after that. And then, together, they had done what Ziva always did, every year, on April 15th: wander through the city and wait for a sign.

The concept had sounded a little abstract to Tony's ears the first time around, but through the years he had come to appreciate the sheer simplistic beauty of it. Up until then the notion of _'a sign'_, so as to suit his movie-trained eyes, had always entailed fireworks, and rose petals, and big sound sceneries, beaches and rain, flickering light. Up until then Tony had conceived of a worthwhile _'sign'_ as something of a massive blow-out. However, Ziva's idea of _'a sign'_, he had learned that day, was that of a gentle tap: anything, anything at all, that made her aware of Tali's presence somehow.

Once it had been a street musician playing the violin, Tali's instrument of choice. Once it had been a child mesmerized by flowers and trees in a park in the same way Tali had been so full of adoration for every object of nature. That year, her first April 15th with Tony by her side, they had found a street artist about to paint the Jerusalem skyline, looking towards the Western Wall with the Dome of the Rock on the left and the al-Aqsa mosque to the right. Ziva had recognized it early on and they had spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting there and watching him. Later, he had refused to take their money and Ziva had simply given him the flowers and told him that her sister would have loved his work. Then he had said that he'd just come back from a journey through Israel and that he'd been painting different sceneries of that journey for two weeks now and that Ziva should just bring her sister, he would be there for another week. And Ziva had promised him that she would.

Tony flipped his phone over, the light of the screen reduced now only to a small, fickle frame. He turned to his other side and faced Ziva, his partner. He glanced over her shoulder at the alarm clock. He reached out and turned the alarm off, his sudden movement, his touch, rousing Ziva from sleep. She stirred, but Tony didn't miss a beat. He ran a hand along the side of her face, brushing aside her wild locks. When her brown eyes fluttered open, his emeralds were already in waiting, brightly before her. A smile erupted on her face and he caught it with his lips.

"Are you my alarm today?", she murmured, shifting her body enough to fit in its entirety beneath his.

Tony nodded. "I thought I'd be early to make sure you wouldn't forget two very important things today", he said, his face and smile only inches from hers.

He could see that the reality of April 15th finally crashed in on Ziva's expression and the playful light in her eyes dimmed slightly. "Yes?"

"First, that I love you and I'm here for you", he declared. "And secondly, when you go out there and take a look into the rooms across from ours. Those two, they are yours. They're all that's good and worth it in life."

The smile returned to her face and she reached out both of her hands to cup his face as she lifted herself up and brushed a kiss against him. Pulling back, she smoothed her thumb over his lips. "I know. Both, I know", she said. "And I am fine."

"Ziva-"

"No, Tony." She smiled. "I am happy."

Tony leaned down once again, their kiss deepening until they drew back almost simultaneously. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes." Ziva's eyes narrowed.

"Do you-"

Ziva nodded slightly. "Yes."

Tony leaned in a little closer, their faces almost touching, with his forearms propped up on either side of her. Unmoving, they waited, every creak of the floor paneling driving even bigger smiles onto their faces. They waited. They waited-

"Mornin' surprise!", Tali's yelled, jumping onto the bed on her mother's side and missing Ziva's legs only by a few inches.

Before Tony and Ziva could untangle themselves from each other Tali had already tackled them both into the mattress, eliciting a chorus of groans and laughter. Ziva eventually brought her arms around her daughter and shifted her little girl's weight onto her torso, pushing herself up into a sitting position with Tali in her lap.

"Somebody's waking early today, huh?", Tony asked, his eyebrows knitted together as he eyed the five-year-old wearily.

Tali shrugged her shoulders. "Enough sleep."

"So, you thought you could just attack us?", Tony went on, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

His look didn't go unnoticed by the little girl and she soon realized what was about to happen. She tried to duck away behind her mother, but a small glance from Tony sufficed and Ziva instantly tightened her hold on the little girl, holding her in place as Tony commenced his tickling assault. The five-year-old erupted in a hail of giggles and wails of _'Daddy, stop!'_, wiggling and squirming.

Tony stopped only for a moment so she could catch her breath. "Oh, you know the magic words", he insisted, wiggling his fingers threateningly.

Tali's arms quickly untangled themselves from around Ziva and, in turn, she threw them around her father's neck, pressing a sound kiss on his cheek. "Love you, daddy."

Tony lifted her into the air and settled her down in his lap. "I guess, mommy… If that is so, we have to stop our attack."

Tali nodded eagerly.

"I guess so", Ziva agreed.

"Love you too, mommy", Tali declared, nodding again.

Ziva reached over and ran the back of her hand gently over her daughter's cheek, her little girl's bright grin going directly to her heart. "Ani ohevet otcha, Tali."

"Maybe you would like me to fix breakfast today?", Eliana's voice emerged from the doorway. When Ziva looked up, she caught a smile on the older woman's face.

"Morning!", Tali greeted.

"Good morning, Tali."

"That would be great, thanks", Tony replied, looking at Eliana.

"Can I help?", David asked, announcing his arrival on the morning scene.

"You need to get ready for school first", Ziva cut in, already climbing out of bed. She held out her hand to her daughter. "You too." Tali quickly freed herself from her father's embrace and followed Ziva to the door.

"Told you so", Tony called over, his words only meant for Ziva's understanding. She turned slightly and offered him a knowing smile.

"Good morning, tateleh", Ziva greeted her son at the door, dropping a kiss on his head.

David smiled. "Morning."

"And thank you", Ziva added, turning to Eliana.

"Al lo devar."

* * *

><p>Neither of their kids knew about the day of their Dodah Tali's birthday. They didn't even suspect. So, their mom was home on time; so, she spent every minute with them and not on work or chores; so, she talked them into taking a walk in the afternoon; so, she might have been quieter than she was most other days. All things considered, there was nothing exceptionally odd about their mom's behavior on that day. It was only Tony who knew what a smile, a look, a gesture meant on April 15th.<p>

Work had been no different today either. They were reviewing cases. No one at work knew about Tali's birthday either and Ziva wanted to keep it that way. There were some things that were too dear, too private, maybe even too painful to share them with anyone but Tony. They had left NCIS headquarters early enough to pick up their daughter on the way. An hour later Ziva had briefly checked in with Rebecca to make sure David had arrived there on time with Tommy. Then she had left father and daughter in order to go for a run; Washington's streets, among and alone.

The cool air against her face was the kind of cleansing she needed on this day. The scenery rushing along beside her, people passing; like a movie in reverse. Her mind was clear, empty, so full of sound she heard nothing at all. Nothing but her sister's voice. _Ziva…_

_***…the ides of time…***_

"_Ziva?"_

_Tali David, a week shy of her twelfth birthday, was peeking into her sister's room, her hands still gripping the doorknob and her eyes closed tightly. It really was a sight to behold. She knew Ziva's room was off limits these days, but this was important. Ziva quickly scanned the room to check for anything Tali wasn't supposed to see and whether she had stowed away all of Tali's presents. She knew her sister after all. She knew Tali would have come snooping around her room at some point anyway._

"_Yes?", she replied finally, assured of her cover-up skills._

_Tali opened her eyes and stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind her and leaning up against it. Ziva's eyes instantly fell on the folder in her sister's hands._

"_Can you help me?"_

"_Have you at least tried to do it yourself this time?", Ziva asked, her brows furrowing._

_Tali nodded and Ziva beckoned her over. The eleven-year-old darted over and spread her things out on the desk. Ziva followed her sister's movements closely, catching a glimpse at all the pages she turned until she arrived at the desired one. Tali indicated a question at the top and Ziva leaned around her to read while Tali rummaged through her sister's pencil case in search for a familiar bright blue fountain pen. She frequently tried to give that pen a permanent home in her own room, but Ziva just as frequently returned it to its rightful place the second she caught her._

_Ziva's eyes narrowed. Snatching the book from her sister's grasp she flipped a few pages, the sight of which causing her to throw her head back. "You know how to do this", she chided, eyeing her sister suspiciously._

_Tali put on her most innocent expression. "Do not."_

_Ziva held the exercise book open in front of Tali's face. "You showed this to me, remember? You got an A on your test", she went on, tilting her head to the side._

_Tali just smiled and shrugged her shoulder. "Short-term memory?"_

_Ziva snorted, flinging the book shut. "Why are you really here, Tali?"_

"_Can't a sister visit her sister for no good reason at all?"_

_Ziva fixed her with a glare. "Tali?"_

_For a few minutes the eleven-year-old didn't utter a word and instead proceeded to put her things back in order. It didn't slip Ziva's attention that her fountain pen had not left the inside of Tali's book, but she had a sinking feeling what this was going to be about already, and chose to just let it be. When Tali turned back around to face her, the brightness in her eyes had been dimmed by an obvious glint of sadness._

"_Abba is not coming home for my birthday, is he?", she asked in a small voice. _

_An audible sigh slipped from Ziva's lips and she slowly shook her head. "How do you know?"_

"_I heard you yelling at him over the phone", she admitted. "And I heard you and Ari argue."_

_Ziva heaved a deep breath. "You should not have heard any of that."_

_Tali shrugged. "It's fine. I don't mind."_

"_It is not fine and you should mind", Ziva held, her eyes glistening furiously. "He should be here. He should celebrate with you. Work should not be more important than you."_

"_But you told Abba all that and he is still not coming", Tali countered, her eyes dropping to the floor. "It's okay. He was not here for yours either."_

_Ziva reached out and cupped her sister's chin in her hand, searching her eyes. "All the more reason to be here for yours, Tali. It is not right."_

_Tali nodded her head slightly and took a hold of Ziva's hand before moving to sit on the floor, her back aligning itself in a familiar pose to the side of the desk. Ziva gave in to the tug on her arm and settled down beside her sister. She slung an arm around her shoulders and allowed Tali to lean into her side. She never fully realized just how small Tali still was until she held her. Ziva's eyes, trained in every line and crease and dimple defining her little sister's countenance, kept studying the eleven-year-old's face. Her eyes were brimming with tears. How much Ziva loathed Eli sometimes for managing to bring sadness to the brightest sapphire orbs she could imagine. She planted a kiss on top of Tali's head._

"_It is okay to be sad and to be angry and to cry. It is not fair", she declared, nodding affirmatively when Tali turned to look up at her._

"_You were sad and angry, but you do not cry, Ziva", Tali held. "So I won't cry either."_

_Ziva offered her a sad smile. "But you can, if you want. Nobody is here but me. And I will not tell anyone."_

_Tali just nodded her head. The miniscule pools of water in her eyes did not seep away, but they did not fall in the form of tears either. She just snuggled deeper into Ziva's side._

"_You should not fight with Ari", the eleven-year-old chided._

"_I know." Ziva chuckled slightly. "Give us until dinner to be mad at each other. You can make us apologize then."_

_Tali nodded against her. For a while only their breathing and the occasional sniffle on Tali's part cut through the silence of the room and the house. _

"_Ziva?"_

"_Yes?"_

"_When I overheard you talking yesterday… I wished for the first time in a long time that Ima was still here", she admitted, not lifting her head to look into the eyes of her big sister; knowing the sadness that would gather in them too well already._

"_Me too, Tali", Ziva pressed out, leaning her head back against the wood._

"_But you know what?", Tali countered quickly._

"_What?"_

"_I have you and Ari and that's so much more than most people have."_

_A smile settled on Ziva's face as she dipped her head a little forward and pressed another kiss to the side of her sister's face. "We have each other."_

"_I bet you'll make a great mom one day, Ziva", Tali declared brightly, moving her body halfway out of Ziva's embrace to present her sister with her biggest smile yet._

_Ziva couldn't help but laugh. "You think I will ever have the time what with taking care of you?", she teased, poking a finger at her sister's chest._

"_I will be the best Aunt in the world", Tali boasted, a grin on her face._

_Ziva shook her head at her sister's unshakable enthusiasm, but her lips soon re-set in a thin line. "I will never have children, Tali. Not in this life. It is not chosen for me."_

_Tali reached out and placed a hand on each of her sister's shoulders, her smile not wavering. "So, I will have lots of children and you can be the best Aunt in the world then."_

_A chuckle slipped from Ziva's lips, almost despite herself. "That sounds like a plan."_

_***…the ides of time…***_

The chuckle from twenty-four years ago echoed in Ziva's mind, driving a vague smile onto her face as she turned the corner and spotted her car at the end of the street; the car with which she would soon return to her family.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Princess Tali?", Tony called over to his daughter, stepping into the living room.<p>

Tali was standing amid an army of toys at the coffee table, the yellow feather boa she had successfully smuggled across the Israeli border and into the country was slung half over her head like a turban and half over her shoulder like the feather boa that it was. She stopped issuing orders and offering opinions on her make-believe world for a second, when her father's voice reached her. Only then did Tony notice Ziva's new pair of boots covering most of the five-year-old's legs. She hadn't been wearing those when he had last checked on her.

"Yes, daddy?"

"You think they can manage without you for a second while we get ready for Uncle Gibbs?", Tony asked, motioning at her unanimated underlings as he came over.

Tali studied each and every one of them. "If they hafta."

Tony nodded. "And while we're at it, we'll return mommy's boots to where we found them, okay?", he suggested, nodding towards the objects in question.

Tali scrunched her face up in a frown. "Mommy always lets me borrow stuff."

"I know she does", Tony said. "But she still wants you to ask her, doesn't she?"

Tali sighed heavily, a sheepish smile flittering across her face. "I know."

Tony cocked his head to the side, gently nudging his daughter's shoulder. "Besides, she's never worn them before. And everyone likes to try on their new stuff before letting anybody else have it. You do too, don't you?"

Tali finally nodded her head in understanding and hopped onto the couch behind her, quickly slipping the boots off of her feet. The open evidence of just how small they were in comparison was enough to drive a bigger grin onto Tony's face.

Tali held them out to him, but Tony shook his head. "Where'd you take them from?"

"Mommy's closet?"

"So, you can return them?" Tali nodded her head again and slid onto the floor. When she passed him, Tony dropped a kiss on her head. "Good girl. I'll be right up to help you get ready, okay?"

"'kay, daddy." Tali took off towards the stairs, breezing past Eliana as she did so. "Hey, grandma."

"Hello, Tali."

"Hey there", Tony called over. He shot her only a swift glance before turning back to survey the remnants of Tali's game and trying to figure out whether there was any Tali-sensible way in which they could reduce the chaos, and preferably before Ziva got home.

"You have a way with kids, Tony", Eliana observed, studying the smile on his face that had lingered all throughout.

"Me?" Tony chuckled, getting up from the couch and eyeing her skeptically. "Nah, never been any good with kids. Actually scared the living daylights out of me for the most part. Ziva, though… Ziva's more of a natural."

"Ziva's had practice", Eliana said. "But your own children are always different."

"That's what she kept telling me", he replied wistfully as the memories of all those conversations that they had had prior to David's birth passed through him. "That my own kids would grow up to learn and love my ways."

A small smile tugged at the edges of Eliana's mouth in return. "I am beginning to understand why Ziva is with you."

"You mean, besides the obvious reasons?"

"You are much like her."

Tony gave a low huff. "Are we talking about the same Ziva? My Ziva?"

"Yes", Eliana confirmed softly. "You see it with Tali. She is a lot like her father and still, she reminds me very much of Ziva when she was her age."

"I'm having a little trouble imagining Ziva running around in a dress and boots and a feather boa on her head, declaring each second Thursday of the month _'Lala-Candy-Day'_", Tony half-laughed, half-tried nonetheless.

"The dress might have been Eli's old army jacket and the boa my diadem, but I do remember an incident not much dissimilar."

Tony briefly managed a smile at the thought of Ziva so carefree, but his expression soon sobered. "Didn't quite hold, now did it?"

"No. Everything changed."

Tony nodded. "Today's April 15th."

A sad smile settled on Eliana's face. "I know."

"Ziva likes to spend it out with the kids now, but I'll go pick up David and then take them to see Gibbs today", Tony explained. "I might be setting up a train wreck here, but I'm willing to take the risk."

Eliana heard his words, but took some time to make sense of them, her eyes widening when she did. "You want me to stay here with her?"

"Ziva doesn't stay in, not today", he said, a knowing smile on his face. "But yes, you'll be here when she comes home instead of us."

"Tony, I do not think this is a good idea."

"No, it's probably not." He shook his head, his shoulders lifting in half a shrug. "But there's a chance it might be, and I'm all about chances lately."

"I will only tarnish Tali's memory."

"No, that's not going happen", Tony countered decidedly. "Ziva's going to be pissed, but she'll get the chance to share this day with someone who actually knew Tali. I won't let her pass up that opportunity just because she's scared."

"I have been trying not to be her mother", Eliana held. "This would make it all about that."

"Look, Eliana. Maybe this is a bad idea", Tony admitted. "I never met my sister-in-law, but over the years I've seen Tali reach out a hand to Ziva from beyond in pretty amazing ways. And I'm willing to believe that this would be right down her alley."

* * *

><p>Ziva entered the apartment to utter silence. Not thinking much of it just now, she went upstairs to take a shower. Tony was probably on his way to pick up David and had taken Tali with him. She allowed the hot stream of water to trickle and wash down her body. When she stepped back out, she turned to open the window, the cool afternoon air biting away the drops of water all over her body. She got dressed and stepped in front of the mirror. She eyed her makeup supplies with a bit of suspicion, remembering briefly the times she had shown her sister how to apply it, even if all her knowledge had come from faded memories of watching Eliana do so.<p>

When she came downstairs, like a ghost from her memories, Eliana was leaning against the armrest of the couch and greeting her with a small smile.

"Where is everybody?", Ziva asked.

"Tony took them to see Gibbs."

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "Today?", she exclaimed, not thinking about it.

"On your sister's birthday, yes", Eliana confirmed, pushing herself into an upright position.

Ziva snorted, shaking her head slightly. "Tony did this on purpose."

Eliana nodded. "He thought that sharing this day with…with-"

"With whom?", Ziva inquired, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Say, with whom am I sharing this day now?"

"With someone who knew her as you did, Ziva."

"Five years you knew her."

Her daughter's words visibly landed directly in a well-aimed punch on Eliana's chest and she winced. "Please don't say it like that."

"So, with whom then?", Ziva repeated, her voice gaining volume. "With someone who can relate? Someone who knows?"

"I lost her too", Eliana held, her jaw set. "I lost my children. I lost them twice."

Ziva's mouth gaped for a second. "Oh please."

Eliana's eyes shot open. "Do not mock me."

"Mock you? I do not have it in me to mock you", Ziva snapped. "I do not _believe_ you."

Eliana shook her head. "What is there to believe?"

Ziva's eyes settled firmly on her, unlike the zigzagging they had been doing up until now. Her glare was rigid with anger. "What did you lose? What? You weren't even there to lose anything."

"I lost my child", Eliana shot back. "I was her mother, Ziva!"

"For eight years. You were a mother for eight years!", Ziva barked. "You think you have anything on me? I raised her. Ari and I, we- She was the most important thing in…my life."

"And you lost her", Eliana added quietly.

"And I lost her", Ziva repeated, tears pooling in her eyes. "Ari and I had to unbury her body and her head and place them in a garbage bag because they were out of body bags. A garbage bag. My treasure, like trash. Just so they would not mix up her head and the rest of her on the way to the town hall where they were laying out the bodies. Do not expect me to have _any_ sympathy for you, because I have lost…_so much_. I too have _lost..._children."

Eliana wanted to throw something back at her daughter, anything, if only to say anything at all, but she was held back by one word. Her brow furrowed. "Children?"

Ziva took a deep breath, biting back her tears. "Child."

"You said children."

"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter-"

"Who else did you lose?"

"What question is that to ask?", Ziva bellowed, her eyes narrowing dangerously again as the moisture around her eyes seeped away. "Who did I lose? Tali, Ari, _you_-"

"Do not twist this around again, Ziva. I know that technique too well", Eliana persisted. "Who else?"

Ziva's jaw clenched. "I lost a baby, okay?"

Eliana's eyes widened diminutively. "Tony's-"

"No, not Tony's", Ziva growled. She opened her mouth to fill her lungs with air, her eyes plummeting to the floor. What was this? She wasn't supposed to be having this conversation.

Eliana searched for her daughter's eyes, but Ziva refused to lift her gaze. "I do not understand", she murmured. "Whose baby? Were you-"

"The baby of one of four men who took turns raping me while I was held captive in a Somali terrorist camp", Ziva spat. "That baby, I lost. Right there. On the ground."

Ziva could have gone over to her mother and slapped her across the face for about the same effect of emotions that suddenly erupted on Eliana's face. For the longest time she had been telling herself that Ziva's time in Mossad had not entailed the terrors that she knew the job could entail. For the longest time she had been holding on to the promises that Eli had given her a lifetime ago. For the longest time she had been telling herself that Ziva's demons were not among the worst she could imagine, with her own experiences.

She took a step forward. "Ziva-"

"No." Ziva took two steps back, her hand shooting out behind her back to grip the doorframe. She shook her head. "Do not try to be a mother just because you take pity on me."

"Take pity on you?", Eliana repeated, her voice incredulous. "Is it pity that you feel when your children are in pain?"

"I am not in pain", Ziva countered.

Eliana shook her head. "No, you are not. It is like a wound that got infected before it healed, yes?"

Ziva unconsciously squared her shoulders. "It hurts much longer."

"One wrong step and it starts hurting all over again."

"I do not need your help."

Eliana nodded, a smile on her face. "Of course you do not need my help. No one strong enough to survive what you have survived needs help now. And especially not from the mother she never had."

A breath tore through her, slipping past her lips. Her chest heaved. "We should be going", Ziva declared flatly.

Eliana stood for a moment, just staring at her. "Go where?"

"We will see", Ziva replied nonchalantly, already moving out into the foyer.

Eliana wasn't sure what Ziva had in mind, but if this was what Tony had alluded to, then she was just grateful Ziva wasn't locking her into the apartment and leaving without her. In the lobby Eliana briefly inquired about the car, but Ziva short her down with a slight jolt of her head. Without another word Ziva set out into the afternoon, Eliana by her side. They had fallen into a comfortable tread, when Eliana finally chose to break the silence.

"Tony knows?"

Without breaking her stride and without looking over, Ziva nodded her head. "Tony always knows."

Eliana waited until they had turned the next corner and onto the next street. "Who taught her to ride a bike?", she asked softly.

A smile tugged at Ziva's lips, involuntarily so. "Ari did."

"On the hill?"

"Yes." Ziva laughed slightly. "On the hill, yes."

Eliana caught the glint of remembrance in the corner of Ziva's eyes and dipped her head to hide her smile behind the high collar of her new coat. "What about Be'er Sheva?"

Her gaze dropping to the ground, Ziva shook her head, a smile persistently on her lips. "He could never sell it. It is still there."

"Have you gone back?", Eliana asked softly.

Ziva shook her head. "I must have been fifteen or sixteen. That was the last time I spent a night there. Ari and Eli, they- I just had to get away. I did not last long."

"Will you want to return?", Eliana went on tentatively.

This time Ziva turned her head to face her, and she nodded. "Yes, I do. I want to take Tony and the kids. I want to show them the orange grove we played in as children. And the meadow behind the house, if it still exists."

"I am sure they still do", Eliana assured her.

Ziva nodded again. She had been toying with the thought of going to Be'er Sheva ever since stepping foot into the high hall in their Haifa mansion. Too long had she regarded her home country as the place she had escaped from, the place she had run away from. It was not fair; not fair to Israel, and not fair to the memories she had made there. There was good to be found there. Her heart lifted at the thought of seeing her own children, after all that had happened in her life, run between the orange trees, the loose gushes of soil engulfing their game and making it appear hidden from the world and the watchful gazes of adults. She hadn't shared that particular plan with Tony yet, but he knew she was planning on going back again, for a visit, for a holiday; he had said so himself.

"Tali was actually furious with me for leaving her behind", Ziva remembered. It was hard not to smile when the face of her angry sister materialized in front of her inner eye. It had taken a lot to really make her sister angry, and at Ziva of all people.

Before another question could take sound, however, something caught Eliana's eye: a small coffee shop at the other end of an alley to their right. People were sitting outside, the weather all but inviting them to do so. The entrance was framed by high-reaching trees, looking like pillars beneath a bright red awning.

"Do you remember that coffee shop in Haifa? Down the street from Nettie's house?", Eliana asked, stopping hard in her tracks. "It had trees just like these."

Ziva stopped to follow Eliana's line of vision. She was right. "This is it."

Without another word she turned and walked over, finding them two seats a little off the crowd. She sat down, Eliana taking the chair beside her. A waiter came over to take their orders, smiling at them ominously. She didn't know why, but Ziva felt strangely busted, as if she had kept a secret that had now been unceremoniously revealed for the public to see.

Shaking her thoughts, Ziva's eyes roamed around and a gentle smile settled on her face. "One summer, I think Tali was fourteen. She decided that she needed money and because the owners had known you and Abba, she got a job there", Ziva recounted. A laugh dripped from her lips as she ran a hand through her hair. "But she was Tali. She was meaning well, but she was constantly late, mixing up things, taking people's life stories instead of their orders or giving out free drink and food to whoever asked and looked enough like they needed it."

Eliana's leant back in her chair, enjoying the unusual number of words tumbling from Ziva's lips. She cocked her head to the side. "She was fired?"

"Yes, after only two weeks." Ziva nodded, chuckling. "The owner, Benesh, he came and personally apologized to us. Tali was disappointed at first, yes, but at least she was free to focus on her music."

Eliana smiled. "What did she play?"

"The violin. You should have heard her play. She could put tears in everyone's eyes. Even Abba's if he chose to listen", Ziva gushed, audible pride in her voice. "She had this wonderful teacher, Mr. Alferov, he-"

"But he was your teacher", Eliana cut in. "He was your piano teacher."

The smile quickly vanished from Ziva's face. "He made me quit", she stated simply. "Alferov would sometimes come up after Tali's lesson and ask me to play some of my old pieces whenever Eli was not home, but I soon did not have the time. I fought Eli on my dancing for the longest time. Ari would always argue that it was helping my fighting skills. But in the end I had other things to do."

Eliana's brown eyes bore into Ziva's, and all she could see was the little girl who had been told, twice over, that she wasn't allowed to do what she loved. "Did he ever learn that your recitals were more important than his work?", she asked then, her eyes narrowed.

Ziva shook her head. "By then, I think, it was also a tactic to keep me from continuing."

Eliana tilted her head to the side. "And Tali's?"

"We were there at every concert, either Ari or I, or both, or Nettie", Ziva said, a smile flickering across her face.

"I am sorry I could not make your father less afraid of the world."

Ziva gave a slight nod, her hand clasping the mug sitting on the table while her eyes drifted off into the distance. "He never gave me a chance, you know? He never gave us a chance to choose."

"Ari and you?"

Ziva nodded. "I would have made sure that Tali got to have her dream. She was destined to be on stage."

"What would you have been, you think?", Eliana asked, sincerely interested.

"I wanted to be an interpreter with the _Magen David Adom_." A smile crawled onto her face as she turned back to look at her mother, that once-harbored dream feeling so far away now that she imagined a cloud of dust engulf its memory. "I dreamed of it for a long time, too. I was long too stubborn to recognize that the moment you left, my choices had been made for me."

"He kept his heart hidden so deep-"

"That we were not his children anymore", Ziva declared, the bitter realization of that fact having long sunk in deep enough to vie for acceptance. "There was no one left to fight for me. Until I came to NCIS."

"They saved you, yes?", Eliana asked, her eyes drifting down to study the liquid in her glass.

"They brought me home", Ziva corrected. "There was little left of me to save. And then they allowed me to reassemble myself however I chose to."

"And your father?"

"For a long time it was not him who I chose. But in the end- In the end, leaving Mossad, and stopping to be an officer before a daughter, it made him see me as a daughter again, I think."

A gush of wind passed between their table and the tree towering behind Eliana's back. A small smile tugged at the edge of her mouth. "Gibbs and I spent over an hour today just staring at each other."

Ziva offered her a soft laugh. "He does not talk much", she admitted.

"I find that very comforting."

"As do I", Ziva said, gently nudging the handle of her mug.

Eliana stared into the brightness that had settled in Ziva's eyes all of a sudden. "You have managed to surround yourself with love, Ziva", she said. "There is no better way to keep your sister around."

Ziva nodded. "I know."


	40. Once in Again

**Chap 40 Once in Again**

**Friday, April 16****th**** 2021**

"Morning, Eliana", Tony greeted as he stepped into the kitchen.

"Good morning", she replied, accepting a stack of plates from Ziva and turning to distribute them on the kitchen table according to the routine seating arrangement she had been introduced to.

Tony, in turn, deliberately positioned himself in front of the refrigerator, a little more than arm's length from where Ziva was preparing breakfast. He cocked his head to the side, just staring at her. Eliana was by far not accustomed to all of Tony's antics yet, but she had seen and learned enough thus far to recognize when it was best to just stand back and watch.

Ziva offered him only a brief glance in favor of focusing on the eggs and the pan, and the combination thereof, sizzling away on the stove. "Do I not get the same greeting?"

Tony rolled his head onto his other shoulder, but otherwise remained unmoving. "I don't know. Do you?"

"I am not angry at you, if that is what you are asking", Ziva clarified, removing the pan from the stove and switching it off while doing so.

"Well, in that case…" Tony took the two steps separating them in a quick stride and readily caught her lips in a deep morning kiss.

"Somebody is eager", Ziva purred against him, a smile tugging the edges of her mouth upwards.

He appreciated the seductive glisten in her narrowed eyes. "I didn't get to do it as often as I might have wanted yesterday."

Ziva placed her forefinger on his lips and gave his jawline a few gentle taps with her thumb. "And whose fault is that?"

A small grin settled on his face. "If it worked, I accept full responsibility."

Her eyes briefly flickered over to her mother, who sported a small, but discernible smile. "I am not sure we are able to match the miracle recoveries that people in your movies manage over the course of only one evening."

Tony's gaze alternated between Ziva and Eliana, before coming to rest on his partner. He reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of her face. He didn't take her bait for a fitting movie reference or an offhand joke. Instead, his grin scaled down to the softest of smiles and he leaned in once again to kiss her. Their eyes locked as they broke apart.

"Believe it or not, but I've long come to appreciate realistic pacing", Tony said.

Ziva smiled. "I do believe you."

Tony's mouth opened to say some more, but before a sound could even move past his lips, Tali's voice cut through their moment with a note of terse frustration. "Mommy", she called over.

A knowing smile formed on Ziva's face as she delivered a last peck to Tony's lips and ducked around him to face her daughter. She couldn't suppress the chuckle that tore through her, though, when her eyes landed on the five-year-old and her off-key attire.

"Tateleh, what are you wearing?", Ziva asked, moving herself fully out of Tony's embrace and towards Tali.

She crouched down in front of her, trying her best to keep the amused expression on her face in check out of consideration for her daughter's obvious irritation. Tali was wearing one of Ziva's jackets over a dress over a simple jeans-and-shirt combination. The jacket was ten times too big for her small body, the hem falling far beyond her knees and the sleeves, despite the little girl's best efforts to roll them up just like she had seen her parents do in the past, were twice the length of her arms.

"Daddy said I could choose", the little girl defended.

"From your own closet, princess", Tony clarified, coming over and standing behind Ziva.

Tali tilted her head forward, her eyes rolling up and down her own body. "But I like mommy's jacket."

"I like it, too", Tony admitted. "But on mommy."

"Are you still wearing that?", David asked as he walked up behind his sister and punctuated his wide-eyed amusement with small laughs.

Tali turned to glare at her brother before focusing back on Ziva. "Deed's makin' fun of me, mommy", she griped.

"Your brother is not making fun of you", Ziva assured her, shooting her son a pointed look that instantly replaced his laughter with a broad, but silent grin. "But my jacket is much too big for you, tateleh. Why don't we try to find a jacket that is similar and in your size?"

"I don't have similar", Tali lamented, drawing out the last word for added dramatics. She flapped her oversized sleeves in a way that caused Tony to briefly turn his head in order to hide his grin.

"Trust me", Ziva replied, getting up and holding out her hand to her daughter. "We will find something together."

* * *

><p>Their work load was light that day, its weight only measured by sheets of paper and not actual bodies, rendering the bullpen an unusually quiet place to be that mid-morning. Keystrokes weren't rushed, desk phones weren't ringing doubly, thoughts weren't shared in a haste. Tony was reading yesterday's reports on Eliana's surveillance detail. Intermittently, he had taken up a routine of staring, his eyes continually running away from the file in his hand, as he slouched in his chair, and over to his right, over to Ziva. He had noticed it that morning, and he noticed it now: A bit of the tension in her shoulders had lessened.<p>

She had been barely forthcoming with details about spending April 15th alongside the live-in reminder of her mother. He wasn't expecting miracles anyway. The kids had worn themselves out at Gibbs' place and David had had an eventful day at Tommy's anyway. They had been fast asleep the second their bodies had hit their own mattresses. Tony had soon followed suit, already sleeping when Ziva and Eliana had come home. He remembered being briefly awoken by a gentle kiss; knowing what he knew now, he was pretty sure he hadn't just dreamt it either.

After a while, Ziva finally gave in to the tingles running down her neck and turned her head. Finding Tony's smile alight before her, she easily returned it. Tony was on the verge of slowly slipping forward in his chair, when something jumped at him in the corner of his eye and he jolted to the side.

"God, Abs!", he exclaimed, trying to regain his composure and the single page that had deserted the others and was now hiding behind his desk.

Abby just grinned at him, energy and delight practically radiating off of her and causing her pigtails to wriggle. "She was so right."

Tony dove behind his desk and retrieved the lost page, staring inquisitively at Abby when he came back up. "Who was right?"

"Eliana."

Hearing her mother's name, the amusement that had engrossed Ziva's face until then was quickly suspended by suspicion. "Eliana was right about what?"

Abby was still smiling. "And Gibbs."

Tony discarded the folder on his desk with a flick of his hand, his attention now completely on Abby. "Eliana and Gibbs were right about what?", he inquired.

"The two of you need some serious alone-time", she replied in a matter-of-fact tone, her gaze alternating between Tony and Ziva. "Soft light, no kids, no mothers, no worries. Just some sweet, sweet sugar lovin'-"

"Don't tell me Gibbs said that", Tony groaned.

"What is this about, Abby?", Ziva asked, ignoring the disgusted expression on her partner's face as she got up and went over to them, leaning against Tony's desk.

"Do you remember how you practically adopted Liora once a month when she was a baby, so McGee and I could have a day to ourselves?", Abby said. "I told you there would come a day we would make it up to you."

Ziva shook her head decidedly. "Abby, you and Tim look after our kids often enough, we-"

"No, you don't get a say in this", Abby cut in, planting her open palm right in front of Ziva's face.

Tony chuckled, a chuckle of disbelief. "But-"

"Neither do you." Abby's other hand shot out to stop Tony as well, rendering her the Goth-version of a traffic policewoman warding off oncoming midday traffic.

"You do remember that you have dinner with the Admiral tonight, yes?", Ziva countered, leaning around her best friend's hand to stare at her. "You just told me about it this morning."

Abandoning his position of silent amusement, McGee came up beside Ziva and offered her a knowing smile. "Yes, and there's no way we can cancel on him", he admitted. "But Gibbs offered to watch Tali and David."

Abby nodded. "Together with Eliana, of course."

A low groan escaped Tony's lips and thus issued the sound editing to the way Ziva's eyebrows had just shot up. "That sounds wrong on so many levels", he protested.

"Oh, no. It's brilliant actually", Abby boasted, her smile once again turning into a full-fledged grin. "I already reserved a table at _Giacomo's_ for you tonight at seven. It's actually pretty incredible how accommodating those guys were on such short-notice as soon as I gave them your name."

Patting his chest, a proud smile instantly straddled Tony's face. "Prime customer for thirteen years."

Ziva could only shake her head: He was sold. Tony's eyes flickered over to her and he cocked his head to the side in much the same way he had done that morning and in much the same way he would do whenever he tried to get her to give in to his bidding. It was hard to withstand that look, particularly when it was about something she craved just as much. Sure, they had their alone-moments in their bedroom at night, or when the kids were asleep, or during a particularly long ride to a suspect's house. But they were just that: moments. The prospect of hours, just the two of them, it was too endearing an offer to decline, Tony's persuasive look notwithstanding.

"What about work?", she countered, her voice laced with the desultoriness of her argument.

"You have your new hours and Tony will be out of here in time, I'll make sure of that", McGee declared, shooting down any further objection.

"And then you two act on those smiles that just burned a hole into the back of your computers." Abby smiled; mission accomplished.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon Ziva was standing in her bathroom, her hands propped up on the sink and her eyes staring back at her through her reflection in the mirror. She had just finished blow-drying her hair and had pulled it back in a messy bun to keep the curly strands from falling into her face. Her gaze dropped to the makeup supplies sitting in front of her and she couldn't help but laugh a little. It had been a while since she had cared so much about the exactness of her looks.<p>

For some unknown reason a simple, not-even-their-idea date with the man she had been sharing her life with for more than ten years was still making her nervous: a good nervous, but nervous nonetheless. In the routines of the days and weeks and months, with work and two kids to take care of, they didn't grant themselves one-on-one nights particularly often. She felt girlish excitement bubble in the pit of her stomach and was taken back to one of their first real, his-idea-more-than-hers dates ten years ago. She had been nervous then, too: a bad nervous. She had still been shatteringly self-conscious about her looks, her scars, her bodily inadequacies back then; so much more evident than all else that had only begun to mend at that point. But all that was gone now and left was the girlish excitement she was more than grateful for.

She had been quite aware of Tali's shallow breaths for a while, too. The five-year-old was peeking in through a crack in the bathroom door and had remained unmoving for almost more than five minutes.

Pushing herself off the sink, Ziva proceeded to hold up three differently colored eyeshadow pallets in front of her face. She knew which dress she was going to wear ever since a glorious moment of revelation in the car on her way to David's school. Consequently, she knew exactly which eyeshadow to choose: the only one that fit, and perfectly so.

Still, she managed to overact exasperation for her daughter's sake. "If only someone would help me choose", she sighed.

Tali's giggle followed promptly. "I can help", she declared, now shoving all of her small frame into the bathroom.

Ziva feigned surprise as she turned around. "Tateleh, I did not even notice you."

Tali stepped up to her mother and planted herself right in front of her, her hands going to her hips. The little girl shook her head. "You did too, mommy."

"Yes, I did", Ziva admitted. She drew the small stool out from under the sink with one foot and then bent over to lift Tali up. "But you can still help me."

Ziva reached her arms around her daughter and Tali started issuing her opinion on her mother's choices, while Ziva made sure, with a bit of good-natured manipulation, that Tali would be going for the more matching items. Then again, Tali was obviously very opinionated when it came to her mommy's looks and Ziva was glad her daughter had already mastered the concept of color matches. The five-year-old's big brown eyes were glued to the reflection of Ziva's face in the mirror every time her mother guided any kind of item up to her face. At one point they could hear the front door open and shut, heavy treads on the stairs and the door to the master bedroom creaking: Tony was home.

Despite her expectations, however, Tony didn't make an appearance in the bathroom soon after. Instead, it was David who turned up in the doorway all of a sudden, giving them a probing look.

"Yes, tateleh?", Ziva asked, her eyes briefly flickering to her son.

She was currently trying to show off the color of the powder she had chosen to her daughter by applying some to the inside of the little girl's wrist. Tali was keenly scrutinizing the apparently non-existent difference.

"Dad said to tell you that he already showered and he's ready and there's no hurry", David rattled off, adding his smile.

Ziva glanced at the wristwatch she had deposited on the shelf by the sink and nodded. "Well, I think we are done here anyway." She snapped the last lid shut and turned to her son, adding, "Thank you, tateleh."

Ziva lifted Tali off of the stool and quickly cleaned away the remnants of their makeup adventures before following her daughter into the bedroom. David hung a bit behind and took a stand in the doorframe, while Ziva went over to the bed Tony and she shared. The dark-blue dress she had opted for was draped across her side of the mattress. She was certain that she had hung it up on the closet door before, so Tony must have put it out for her. Leaning closer, she also found a pair of earrings, perfectly matching the dress' color, lying on top of it. Tony must have put them there as well. She had considered wearing them, too. They were family heirlooms, a pair of her mother's that Nettie had sent her once for her birthday. She hadn't been sure whether she wanted to use them today - with her mother waiting downstairs and all -, but Tony had obviously made that decision for her. A small smile sprung to her lips.

When she looked up from her thoughts, however, she was suddenly hit with the awareness of her children standing there, watching her. She was still wearing only sweats and a loose sweater and she would have to undress completely in order to put on the dress. The kids, by the very looks of it, would be present for that. But they couldn't be. They were her children, so they had seen most of the scars running like life-lines along her body. They had questioned some of them, not others. They had seen bits and pieces of the whole picture, but the whole picture she had kept hidden thus far and, if it could be helped, would not uncover to anyone but Tony, ever. Her back, in particular, she had no desire to expose to them. There was no way the long-winding scars could be explained away with a few snippets of fake childhood run-ins and professional mishaps now that they were older. She hadn't worn two-piece swimsuits in over a decade and only ever got dressed with her back turned towards the wall. She wouldn't break that pattern tonight.

Ziva turned to Tali, who had hoisted herself up on the bed and was staring at her mother expectantly. "Tateleh, I will do my hair in here. Would you get the basket for me?"

Ziva was referring to the basket with all their hair supplies sitting at the back of the cupboard in the bathroom; the very basket that Tali usually had a field day sorting through in search for the perfect match to her mood. The little girl nodded eagerly and was already darting towards the door.

Then Ziva turned to her son. "Can you make sure-"

David smiled and nodded, heading after his sister. Ziva quickly set to work, hurrying out of her clothes and stepping into her dress, careful to place the earrings aside first. She had just drawn the zipper far enough up her back to relax when the kids came rushing back in. The dress had the perfect cleavage to accommodate little to no view of the scars on her chest and torso. It was low-cut at the back, so it was easy to zip herself up and would only expose the bulging ends of a few of her scars. Those would be subsequently covered by her hair, which she would wear down and curled, she had decided.

Ziva gratefully accepted the basket from her daughter, kissing her nose. "Thank you", she said, lifting her eyes up to also meet her son's.

"Can I help with your hair, mommy?", Tali requested.

"Of course."

Tali scrambled onto the small bench in front of Ziva's dresser, placing the basket in her lap. Ziva settled down beside her and started warming up the styling iron. While taming her curls into gentle locks she followed her daughter's diligent movements as her small hands sorted through the variform insides of the basket. Ziva smiled at the reflection of David as he came to stand behind them.

"That one", Tali exclaimed triumphantly. She was holding up a silver barrette with disparate metallic stems that curled around each other to form a simple pattern.

Ziva took a look at it and held it against her hair, focusing on David's reflection in the mirror. "What do you say?"

"It's really pretty, mom", he said, a big smile on his face.

"Then it is decided", Ziva replied.

At that moment they heard the front door and Gibbs' booming voice returning first Tony's greeting, then Eliana's.

"Uncle Gibbs is here", David remarked.

It had only taken Ziva about five minutes to persuade her children that being watched by their Uncle Gibbs was a really good and solid plan for a Friday night. Then again, if enough entertainment was provided, their children were usually very compliant with having their parents gone for the night. Seeing as it was for a date and not work, things didn't need to be half as tense anyway.

Ziva turned around to look at her son. "Can you tell them that I will be right down?"

David nodded and quickly went downstairs, where he made a beeline for the man standing by the door to the foyer.

"Hey, Uncle Gibbs!", he greeted, giving him a hug.

Eliana was looking on from her position on the couch as Gibbs wrapped an arm around the eight-year-old and bent down to whisper something into his ear that no one else could hear, but something that elicited an eager nod from the little boy. She still had a very hard time figuring Gibbs out. When she had cautiously run her idea by him that morning, he had agreed almost instantly, an impish grin on his face as he had slipped out his phone and called Abby's number. Now he was standing there, his eyes so clear and daunting, but his expression could not have been gentler as he looked at David. If she was unsure of one thing tonight, then it was the combination of Gibbs and herself when the kids were down for the night and distractions were gone.

Tony, in turn, stood unmoving in a black suit, matching waistcoat and a silver-white tie. His hair was neatly in place, but with the added twist for Tony-ness. He was checking his watch nervously every few minutes, not really knowing why he was nervous at all. They still had plenty of time and since they were going to _Giacomo's_ time really wasn't an issue anyway.

"Mom said she won't be long anymore", David assured him, smiling at his dad.

Tony returned his son's smile, but movement in the corner of his eye promptly caused him to refocus. "Where are you going, Gibbs?"

Offering only a crooked smile, Gibbs was already on his way up the stairs, leaving the other three to the living room. Upstairs, he followed the voices and headed for the bedroom, where Ziva was adjusting the barrette in her hair so that it would pin back just enough of her long auburn locks to expose just enough of her right ear.

She leaned over to Tali. "Will you bring me the shoes I put out, neshomeleh?", she requested quietly.

Tali nodded and jumped off of the bench, her eyes instantly falling on Gibbs. She greeted him with an enthusiastic wave. "Hello, Uncle Gibbs!"

"Hello, princess."

Ziva whirled around at the sound of his voice. He was standing in the doorframe, his shoulders straight, wearing a jacket over a simple polo shirt. It was impossible not to notice the pride in his blazing blue eyes as he smiled at her.

"Gibbs", she said softly as she got up. His smile possibly widened.

Tali came up beside Ziva with a questioning look on her face as she held out a pair of pumps, dark-blue with open sides. Ziva nodded and quickly slipped them on. Tali's eyes rolled up as her mother grew three inches before her. Ziva smiled at her and tugged up her dress a little around her knees, so she could crouch down in front of her daughter.

"Thank you very much for helping me get ready, tateleh", she said, smoothing a hand down the little girl's cheek.

Tali nodded, a proud grin on her face. "You're welcome." Then she cocked her head to the side again, causing Ziva to smile at the fact that father and daughter were so blatantly alike. "Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"Can I give you a kiss?"

Ziva nodded decidedly and Tali dipped forward, planting a gentle kiss on her mother's lipstick-perfected lips. Ziva chuckled and reached out a finger to distribute the creamy red smears she had left more evenly on her daughter's lips.

"Now you are wearing lipstick as well", she observed.

"Just like you."

"Yes, just like me."

Ziva placed a hand on Tali's back as she stood, straightening up to her full height and date-night grandeur in front of Gibbs, who had quietly watched their exchange all the while.

"What do you say?", she asked, smiling coyly. "Gibbs?"

Gibbs titled his head a little, a similar smile straddling his face. "You look beautiful, Ziver."

Ziva choked down a lump in her throat. "Thank you."

Gibbs then turned to Tali. "Hey, princess, announce us downstairs?"

"Yes!", Tali exclaimed, rushing out of the door.

Ziva's eyebrows rose as she eyed Gibbs closely. Gibbs, however, merely took a few steps into the room and held out his arm to her. "Ready?"

Tali was already on a full-fledged sprint down the stairs by then, skidding to a halt in front of her father. Tony was leaning against the armrest of the couch. The five-year-old studied his appearance for a second, before rolling her eyes up at him and offering him a big, enticing grin.

"You look like Bond, daddy."

"Totally what I was going for, princess." He grinned, brushing a loose curl from her forehead. "Where's your mom?"

"Coming", Tali declared. "She looks really pretty, daddy."

"Your mom always looks pretty."

"But today s'pecially."

"Yeah, you gotta tell her that, dad", David told him from where he had taken a seat next to Eliana on the couch.

"I always tell her that-", Tony defended.

He was about to say more when two pairs of steps on the stairs announced incoming. He looked up just in time. Ziva was coming down; the slit in her blue dress exposing one of her legs, her hair falling over her shoulders, exposing the earrings he had put out for her, her Magen David pendant dangling from her neck and against her cleavage, her arm hooked around Gibbs'. They reached the last step to the symphony of Tony's wide eyes and an oddly choked-up expression on Eliana's face.

Eliana studied her daughter's countenance, the way her brown eyes had searched for and instantly settled on Tony, the way her arm was so comfortably tucked under Gibbs'. She watched as Gibbs turned his head and placed a diligent kiss on Ziva's cheek. And that was when it hit her: who Gibbs was to Ziva and Eli wasn't.

"Thank you", Ziva whispered to him, her smile emphasizing every syllable. He nodded and stepped aside, letting go of her arm as Tony walked up to them. "You look dashing, Tony", she complimented, filling in for his silence.

Tony took a hold of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. He drank in the perfected play of shadow and light on her skin, as if he hadn't heard a word. "You're perfect."

Ziva smiled, almost bashfully blinking away this sincerest of compliments. Tali and David had already abandoned their silent posts by then, however, and came up beside their parents.

"See, daddy?"

"Told you so."

Tony bowed his head. "You were right. Mommy's prettier than ever tonight." A grin spread on his face when he recognized what he believed to be a sincere blush on Ziva's part. This was way too 90s-movie and all-time girly for her life, he knew that, but that was the real beauty of it.

"You will be good for your Uncle Gibbs and Eliana, yes?", Ziva said, looking at her kids with raised eyebrows.

They both nodded dutifully, Tali even offering her the prominence of her pinky finger.

"Goodnight hugs", Tony announced.

He bent down to catch each child and kept a watchful eye on them as they hugged Ziva, so they wouldn't disrupt the perfection of her appearance. But he needn't have worried. Even if Ziva didn't care whether her children's hugs disrupted anything at all, but the kids were evidently more careful than usual with their affections.

Tony took Ziva's hand, lacing his fingers through hers. He offered her a small smile. "Shall we?"

"Don't hurry", Gibbs declared.

"We won't", Tony assured him and with that they left.

* * *

><p>It had only taken a single decisive nod on Eliana's part to get Gibbs to relinquish dinner duty to her while he went upstairs with the kids. He came to check on her once in a while, at one point wordlessly setting the table and chopping vegetables for the salad. After dinner Eliana knowingly hung back while Gibbs was in charge of getting the kids ready for the night. She eventually settled down with a book on the living room lounger, occasionally allowing herself to be distracted by the sounds drifting downstairs.<p>

There, for the first time, she caught Gibbs' laugh. She found it decisively hard to link that sound to the face he routinely chose to show towards her. It was much easier to imagine his laugh along with the expression he let on whenever one of the kids entered the room. That was when she realized that Gibbs was exactly who Eli was still only trying to be, and would probably never become: Gibbs was part of their everyday, and he mutely functioned like a stubborn bulwark of perseverance.

Noticing small steps, Eliana looked up to find Tali bounce down the stairs with a book in each hand. She was clad in bright red pajamas and a bright smile was straddling her face as she sauntered over to her.

"Uncle Gibbs' gonna read us a story", she declared, showing off her books like prized paintings at a closed auction.

Eliana smiled. "Is he now?"

"Yes", Gibbs replied, joining them in the living room as well. His eyes instantly settled on Tali. "But only if you tell me which one."

Tali screwed her face up in concentration, alternately eyeing the books in her hand and asking them silent questions. In the meantime Gibbs took a seat on the couch, watching her. After a while the little girl's face visibly relaxed. Flinging one of the books onto the coffee table, she tightly clasped the other one and hoisted herself onto the couch, pushing herself onto her knees beside him.

"This one", she said, holding the book aloft before him.

Gibbs chuckled. "You sure?"

Tali nodded her head. "It has a picture of a chuppah just like the one you're buildin' for mommy 'n daddy", the little girl reasoned. Gibbs couldn't suppress another chuckle at Tali's heartfelt pronunciation of the wooden canopy taking up space in his basement. He watched her eagerly turn the pages until her forefinger landed pointedly on a picture that, in fact, showed something akin to a chuppah in the background. "See?"

"But it is not as beautiful as Gibbs', is it?", Eliana put in, inclining her body a little to see for herself.

A proud smile erupted on Tali's face as she turned to her grandmother. "No way."

"You know about the surprise?", David asked at once.

All three heads snapped into the direction of his voice and they found him standing at the foot of the stairs. He slowly walked over, a probing look on his face. His gaze alternated between the two adults. Eliana wasn't sure what to say. She had guessed that the chuppah was being built as a surprise for Tony and Ziva, but she hadn't had the slightest idea that it was such a profound surprise at that.

Gibbs, however, simply nodded his head. "I showed her."

Eliana had expected more reaction from her grandson, but the eight-year-old acknowledged Gibbs' statement with a similarly nonchalant nod and plopped down on Gibbs' other side. Eliana watched as Gibbs proceeded to open the book on the first page, leaning back, and listened as he started to read. She pretended to return to her own reading, but David's small, contemplative glances didn't slip her attention, they rather attracted it.

Tali nodded off against Gibbs' shoulder even before the story had ended and Gibbs eventually led the kids upstairs, but not before they each offered Eliana a _'Layla tov'_ that painted a smile on her face. When Gibbs came back downstairs half an hour later, he returned to his previous spot on the couch, not uttering a word. Eliana tried to focus on the Hebrew sentences before her, but soon found herself distracted once again. Looking up, Gibbs wasn't looking at her. Fixing him with her eyes for a while, he did turn to face her, however, eventually.

"What would you be doing if I weren't here?", she inquired.

"Kids are usually at my place."

"And what if they are not?"

A lopsided smile appeared on Gibbs' face. "DiNozzo would've slipped a list of stuff to fix in with the question."

"TV?"

Gibbs cocked his head to the side and shook his head.

* * *

><p>They were led to one of their usual tables, a little off the crowd in a small alcove. Before taking their orders, the owner briefly, in his usual flamboyant manner, rattled off a few Italian-English compliments. Ziva smiled throughout, having grown accustomed to it over the years. But she wasn't really enjoying the compliments as such. More than those, it was the proud grin on Tony's face that lit up her smile that night.<p>

"He's right, you know", Tony remarked as he placed the napkin in his lap. "You're glowing tonight."

"That is the candle, Tony", Ziva retorted, smirking.

He tilted his head to the side and offered her a small smile. "I doubt it."

Ziva huffed, momentarily shoving the flame of the candle into his direction. "You are biased."

"I'm in love."

Words lingered on Ziva's lips, her mouth gaping, but she didn't speak any of them. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand on top of his. "Thank you, Tony."

"We're not even at the entrees yet", he cautioned, laughing softly.

"Thank you for what we have", she said, not missing a beat. "We are spending a lot of time lately dealing with what we do not have and what we did not get in life. At least I am. But I never stop being grateful for what you and the kids have given me."

Tony led her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "The things we're both grateful for."

A waiter stepped up beside them and subsequently broke the connection of their hands, but their eyes remained locked while he placed their plates in front of them. Wordlessly, they toasted to the life that they shared.

After a while of silent chewing and fleeting glances, Ziva's thoughts drifted to the day before. "Did he say anything to you about his time at Tommy's?", she asked.

Tony shook his head. "Not much."

Ziva bowed her head again, returning to her plate. Tony watched her for a moment, as the pensive look lingered on her face and went straight to his heart. It was no secret to anyone, least to him, that fierce protectiveness could be an understatement for Ziva's personal definition of motherhood. He wondered if her senses would relax and level with time as their children's problems only grew with age. But he doubted it. At the very least, however, he could enjoy the humor in it, thinking about what his wife was capable of doing to people who dared to hurt their kids; hypothetically, of course.

"It looked like he had a good time, though", he assured her, searching her eyes as he added, "Hey…"

Ziva took a moment before looking up. "I hate that he is hurting just because we are who we are."

A small, sympathetic smile appeared on Tony's face. "That sums up parenting, I'm afraid."

"Maybe we can find a way to show him, really show him that we are capable of protecting ourselves", she mused.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "What? Like letting him tag along to combat training?"

"Maybe", Ziva said, instantly unsure about the idea now that she had voiced it out loud. "Maybe not. I don't-"

"No, I think that's a good idea actually", he insisted, rolling it around in his head for a moment. "We'll figure something out."

Ziva nodded. They went back to their plates, soft music underscoring their silence. But, once again, her thoughts drifted off and inevitably ended up at a point she knew she had to discuss tonight; better earlier than later, too.

"We talked about Somalia", she professed offhandedly. "Eliana and I."

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "Talked?"

"Well, no. Not talked", she corrected. "I tossed it at her."

"How do you toss something that heavy?"

"We were fighting. We were screaming at each other actually. About losing children. One thing led to another-"

"So, hardball." Tony visibly forced the last bite of salmon down his throat and stopped the fork halfway to his mouth just to settle it back down on his plate. He stared at her.

Ziva mimicked his move, the fingers of her right hand curling into a light fist. "We argued. It just happened. I did not plan on it."

Tony nodded, taking it in. "I mean, I knew it would happen eventually."

"But not so soon", Ziva whispered.

"Well, it took you almost ten years to tell me." Tony gaze plummeted to the uneaten tomato gaping up at him. "It does kinda leave a stabbing sensation."

"Tony…", she said, reaching across the table once more to take a hold of his hand. She waited until he had rolled his eyes back up at hers. "I am sorry."

"No, don't. You shouldn't have to be sorry about that", he insisted, placing his free hand on top of hers and squeezing it. "She should know. I'm not the expert or anything, but I'm pretty sure that a mother should know about these things."

Ziva laughed softly. "Depends on the mother."

"It will help her understand", Tony reasoned. "It's not like you have forever to work things out."

"Yes…" A smile flashed across Ziva's face, but it quickly vanished behind solemnity.

"Hey, no", Tony went on quickly, mentally kicking himself, "I didn't mean it like- She's not going to die tomorrow."

Ziva shrugged. "She could."

"She won't."

"Tony, there is a very real chance that she will."

"No one dies twice. Eliana won't make precedence", Tony insisted. His smile returned and his thumb gently started caressing the side of her hand as she forced herself to nod.

* * *

><p>Eliana could have probably lived with an evening of soundless staring, the silence only broken once by Tali asking for a glass of water and once by a car swerving down in the street. But it was too imminent a moment, too blatant a chance. She couldn't help it. She couldn't be sure that she would get many more chances, many more days, many more moments. She had to seize the ones she had and deal with the aftermath when it presented itself.<p>

"Director Shepard brought her here", she stated, repeating the gist of Leon's words from the other day.

Gibbs was surprised by the question, but nodded his head nonetheless. He hadn't thought about Jenny in quite a while, actually. It wasn't an easy thought either.

Eliana deserted the book in her lap. "Why?"

Half a shrug yanked Gibbs' shoulders upwards. He blinked. "Couldn't look Eli in the eye after what happened with Ari."

"Ziva requested the reassignment?"

"Yes."

Eliana still missed most of the details on what had become of her stepson, how things had tumbled and crumbled to a place from which he had never returned; dragging his sister down with him. The Ari she had known, raised, held in love and praise, had not been the same one that Gibbs was speaking of, blandly, when he sounded out his name.

"You don't trust my husband", she declared, knowing the answer already.

"Never will."

"But Ziva-"

"Stakes are different."

"What about me then?", she inquired, inching forward on the lounger to bring herself closer to the suspicious look in his blue eyes. "How can I ever convince you to trust me?"

Gibbs cocked his head to the side, a crooked smile forming on his face. "You don't. You don't have to."

"I saw you with Ziva today. I saw how you look at her. How she looks at you. If you do not trust me, neither will she", she insisted.

Gibbs' mouth gaped for a moment as he shook his head. "You only think about her. The kids. And Tony."

"And you?"

"Protecting her."

Eliana's head lifted as she hinted at a nod. "What about Somalia?"

The words fell from her lips, inadvertently, like a pencil slipping at the moment of its hand-over and landing on the floor with the sharpened end first. She was fishing for a reaction, Gibbs was well aware, but he couldn't help it. The look in his eyes hardened and a colorful range of words hung on his lips, none of which managing transition into sound.

"Not my can of worms to open."

Eliana nodded in understanding, breathing out a sigh. "So, that's how bad it was."

Gibbs shook his head, vaguely indicating an answer. "You take that up with one of them."

"Fair enough."

He nodded and got up to go to the kitchen. Halfway to the door, however, he stopped himself, the muscles in his neck visibly clenching. He whipped around, his arm shot out from his side and he pointed his finger directly at a spot on her chest.

"I never let her out of my sight again after that", he grumbled.

Eliana blinked, taken momentarily aback by the fervor in his voice. She slowly nodded her head. "Okay."

Gibbs let his arm sink to his side once again as he returned her nod. "Okay."

* * *

><p>"Ziva?"<p>

Tony's voice was laced with an edge of worry. He had been watching her stab the arugula leaf half to death for a little over a minute now and he felt it was time to intervene.

She rolled her eyes up to meet his without lifting her head, rendering her expression that of a coy request. "Will you promise not to be mad?"

"What did you do?", he half-laughed, abandoning his knife for the time being.

"I called your father", she professed quietly, her forehead creasing in anticipation of his reaction.

Tony's eyes widened. "You did what?"

"I called Senior", she repeated, squaring her shoulders. "We had a long talk actually."

A barrage of small, disbelieving laughs ripped through his chest. "Why would you do that?"

"He promised to stop by when he gets back from Geneva next month", she said.

"He's in Geneva?", Tony exclaimed in disbelief before regaining his composure. "That's beside the point. I repeat, why would you do that?"

"_Because_, Tony", she declared simply. "You deserve that somebody is trying for you. Even if that somebody needs a push. And even if I have to push him again and again."

"Ziva", he sighed, unable to repress the smile forming on his face. Then he just limited his response to shaking his head. "He won't come."

"Oh, he will." Ziva nodded, the index finger of her right hand shooting upright. "He will, if he knows what is good for him."

Tony chuckled. It was hard to argue with the determination glistening in her eyes. So, maybe, they really would be trying again. If he had learned one thing in all of this, it was that trying really was the only way to do it, and maybe get it right, once in a while. He waited until they had both finished the main course to get up and reach a hand out to her. Ziva's eyes instantly narrowed. She recognized his intentions and listened, carefully; maybe she had misplaced the surge of the prelude. But no, she hadn't misheard.

"This is not our song, Tony", she asserted.

A playful glint sparked in his emerald eyes. "We have a song?"

"Yes", she admitted quietly, still disregarding the hand he had extended to her over the table, "The one that played on the radio when you stopped the car-"

"And we danced on the side of that godforsaken road in the middle of nowhere, because the GPS gave out, you forgot to bring a map and McGee took ages to get a fix on our phones", Tony finished, clearly remembering. "But any song is our song, if we make it ours."

Ziva tilted her head to the side and finally placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her around the table and towards the small dance floor off to the side of the tavern. As she was well familiar with, Tony went through the motions of leading her up, sweeping along the edge of the paneling and joining them in traditional pose without once breaking their gaze. He reached around her to the small of her back, the knuckles of his hand gently tracing the scar he knew, by heart, was hidden beneath the delicate fabric of her dress, before he used his palm to draw her closer. Ziva's hand, in turn, started out right over his heart, holding him in place with a single touch, until it wandered, diligently, across his clavicle and came to rest on his shoulder. She placed it just close enough to his collar, so she could brush the tip of her fingers over his neck to the rhythm of the low beats. Their bodies in tune, their hands linked, they started swaying to the music.

"This is to making it ours", he murmured, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss.

His undimming wide grin made it impossible for her to stay in control of their kiss and she just let go, her eyes momentarily closing to the moment. When he pulled back, Ziva's eyes were still closed and they moved, simply to the cue of his touch, across the floor. Opening her eyes again, she found the brightness of his expression unchanged.

"Tony", she said. She allowed his name to linger between them as she brushed two fingers, in gentle succession, along the edge of his collar, a satisfied smile digging itself deeply into her features when miniscule goosebumps trailed after her touch. "Do you remember when you proposed?"

A soft laugh rushed past Tony's lips, leaving a trace of warmth on her neck. "Hard thing to forget", he whispered.

She smiled, looking up again to catch his eyes. "We never exchanged those vows like we wanted to", she observed quietly.

Instead of an official wedding ceremony, and all the official works, they had once intended a small gathering, exchanging promises before their family. However, life had happened and gotten in the way of that. David had just been born and they had been adjusting both to being in a committed relationship and, on top of both not having a stellar track record there, being parents to a beautiful little boy who depended on them making it work from day one. Without questioning it much, they had adopted April 23rd as their day, the day they had come clean to the team about their relationship. By force of intimate coincidence they had ended up celebrating it that first year and so they had hung on to that ever since. By far, that had always been the only quasi-official anchor point of their relationship.

"Well, you taught me to value the small gestures over time over the one grand turn", he said, squeezing her hand where they were joined. "It's safe to say that concept's worked for us so far."

"How would you like to exchange vows this year?", she asked, almost shyly.

His eyes narrowed momentarily, testing her. "You're serious."

Ziva dipped her head to the side, trying to enjoy the light in his eyes from more than one angle. "We deserve a grand gesture once in a while."

* * *

><p><em>Next chapter: Intermezzo 6.<em>


	41. A Curious Case of Immanence

_This is the last Intermezzo-chapter of this story: In a bit of full-circling, it is a callback to chapter 6 of "Now a' is done"._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 41 Intermezzo - Part 6<br>**_or: A Curious Case of Immanence_

**October 2012**

"Sir, your apple?"

Tony was snapped back to reality by the cashier arching her neck around an invisible partition between them at the checkout counter. He blinked at her, his expression reflecting the blankness of a movie screen with the credits done rolling. She repeated her sentence, wordlessly this time, and pointed at the bright red edible organism he had yet to pack into one of his bags. Hadn't Ziva left him stranded in the food department a few minutes ago, because he was about to break out into a well-cultivated list of Tarantino trivia? Ziva...

His eyes flickered to his right, away from the cashier's annoyance: There was Ziva. But not only Ziva, there was Ziva with David - David, his eleven-week-old son. His son. A grin erupted on his face just thinking that. The little boy was safely wrapped into a blanket and strapped to Ziva's chest. Personally, he had never pictured Ziva as the kind of mother to do that. Even when he had come around to actually picturing her with children, and even when her growing belly was growing evidence that they would soon be parents. They hadn't actually bought one of those chest-strap-carrier thingies. When they had finally been cleared to leave the hospital, however, Ziva had instantly ordered him to the store to make up for their initial lapse in equipment.

He couldn't blame her, really. Right after his birth David had been plucked from their grasp and whisked away to be checked and eventually treated for a possible heart condition. Something about walls and holes - Tony had wiped any memory of it from his mind. Following more than a month-long stay at the hospital they had finally taken their baby boy home, and after overcoming weeks' worth of fear for any lingering health issues, they had finally started prancing around their beautiful child for the world to see. After that ordeal Tony really couldn't blame Ziva for still adamantly refusing to bring more than arm's length between their little boy and either one of them beyond the safety of their four walls.

This was his family now: Ziva and David. The dream-come-true irreality of it wasn't lost on him. His eyes not leaving mother and son, he slipped a few bills out of his pocket and handed them to the cashier, grabbing the forlorn apple with his free hand and not looking back.

"Lights went out", Tony noted, leveling his voice to a whisper. David had proven to be a light sleeper, just like Ziva, but the steady rhythm of his mother's heartbeat apparently did the trick despite standing in the midst of Saturday morning grocery store bustle.

"Once you were gone, so was the entertainment", Ziva retorted softly, waiting for her son - _her son_ - to release a small breath before looking up at her partner. "It appears."

A grin on his face, Tony held the apple out to her. "Good one."

Ziva narrowed her eyes briefly, but then just stepped around him on her way to the exit. Tony granted himself a beat, and another one, and another one, to fall behind and just watch the mother of his child walk, up ahead, before setting out after her and catching up with her a few steps later. The grocery store was just on the other end of their block and the weather had been unseemly warm and perfect for a walk. Ziva simply tucked the blanket tighter in around her son and on they walked, side by side. They were already close to their building when an elderly woman passed them on the sidewalk, an evident smile springing to her face once her eyes landed on them. In the corner of his eye Tony noticed how Ziva caught the woman's gaze and returned her offhand smile.

"I can hear you grinning", Ziva said, her eyes again fixed on the path ahead.

Tony nodded, the grin persisting. "You did it."

Ziva turned and studied his face, unable to keep from liking the way his eyes had gained color. "Did what?"

"You finally realized that this little guy here", Tony tilted his head to nod at David's peaceful features, "Is all yours."

"Ours", Ziva corrected softly, her arms unconsciously tightening around her son. "And just how did you conclude that?" An air of playfulness and gentle curiosity had settled between them.

"That was the very first time you ever appreciated the fact that people think we look cute together", Tony explained. "As a family."

Ziva marveled at the effortless manner with which those words had just tumbled out of his mouth. It was true, though. She had appreciated it. Her smile had been induced by the simple, content jolt of being able to acknowledge that, to an outsider's fleeting glance, they were nothing short of a cute, young, happy family. Those words almost seemed too prevalent in any language to ever fit her life, but right there, it was entirely true and it said entirely all.

Tony opened the door of the elevator for her and she boarded it ahead of him. When he leaned over to jab the button of their floor, she took a step to the side so that her head came to rest against his shoulder and she made it impossible for him not to sling his free arm around mother and child. He didn't mind, though; he just would have liked to have a longer elevator ride to enjoy it. Arriving upstairs, David was still oblivious to the world around him as they entered the apartment. Ziva skillfully peeled off her boots with least disturbance to her son and carefully sidestepped the bags and presents they had yet to unpack.

Her eyes were fixed on the playpen in the living room, silently debating whether she wanted to have David close while making lunch or put him down in his crib upstairs. She was thus all the more startled when Abby jumped into her line of vision, giving her an enthusiastic smile and wave.

"Hey, Ziva", she whispered, her eyes landing on the sleeping baby.

"Hello, Abby", Ziva replied, quickly checking for David's still-closed eyes. "Were we expecting you?"

Abby nodded and pointed at Tony, who came up behind them logging the grocery bags. "He was."

Ziva's eyes narrowed as she turned to face him. "Tony?"

"I'm your trail for the day", Abby declared offhandedly.

Tony couldn't shake his head in time to stop her. By now, Ziva's face had moved past suspicion and clearly demanded answers. He let the bags sink to the floor. "Abby, I haven't-"

"Haven't what, Tony?", Ziva cut in.

"You haven't told her yet?", Abby realized. Her eyebrows lifted upon his nod and she quickly inched a few steps backwards, trying to blend in with the upholstery of the couch.

"Tony?"

Ziva's voice was smaller now, and her eyes were focused only on him. If the smacking sound wasn't sure to have woken the baby, Tony would have slapped himself over the back of the head right now. He had been so caught up in admiring his little family that he had forgotten to text Abby. The way Ziva had subconsciously drawn David closer to her was just about physically hurting him anyway.

"Okay, listen. I don't want to force anything on you, you know that. No one is forcing you to do anything, okay?", he said. He knew that her sensitivities in that regard were more acute again since the baby; he couldn't let her feel as if she wasn't somewhat in control. "Just hear me out."

Ziva didn't answer, but visibly relaxed her grip on David.

Tony nodded his head, pressing his lips into a thin line while choosing his words. "We have dinner reservations tonight for half past six."

Ziva's shoulders momentarily tensed. "Tony, I have just had a baby-"

"You said you'd hear me out", he stopped her, a small smile on his face. "You're not hearing me."

She took a breath. "Sorry."

"So, we have reservations at the same time at _Giacomo's_ and _Chez Gibbs_. Wherever you feel more comfortable, it's your choice. You have plenty of time to decide", he explained. "I'll be at work, because Temp Agent Not-Ziva can't be left alone, but Abby here will follow you around and soak up every little detail, so she can watch David tonight."

"David-"

"Is only eleven weeks, I know", Tony cut her off. His eyes flickered to his son, his head resting sideways against Ziva's chest, and smiled at how he flapped his little lips, like a fish, the way he always did when he was sleeping tightly. "And we won't leave him, if your worry rate's not at least down to eighty percent."

A smile tugged at her lips now and Tony took it as a sign to step forward, leaving even less distance between them and leaving the world out even more than before.

"If you don't want to go at all, we won't", he said, searching her eyes.

"You planned all this", she whispered.

Their gazes simultaneously dropped to the baby resting between them, his breathing the only sound to underscore the moment.

"I'll plan it again for another time", he assured her. "I'd rather we stay in and watch him sleep for hours…well, _two_ hours, than seeing you be miserable in whatever fancy place, okay?"

She knew he was being sincere, she could see it in his eyes. The same eyes that kept a tight grip on the smile on her face. She missed him, no doubt about that. She missed their moments alone. She had missed him sleeping next to her every night at the hospital and was only now starting to make up for it again. She missed not talking to him, as weird as it sounded.

"And I promise we'll be back in time for his 10 o'clock", he added, casting aside every last bit of objective protest.

Ziva gave a vague nod. "I will see if I fit in any of my clothes from before having him, yes?"

To Tony's eyes Ziva appeared already back to the figure she had had before David. The havoc her body had been left in after Somalia had put so much stress on her during the pregnancy that they had continually fought to keep her weight up anyway. More than that, Ziva had already started isolated workouts in the hospital. They were important to her, he knew, more for her mind than her body. The post-partum pains, the fears for her son, the fatigue - her nightmares were stronger again, and more numerous. Working out helped that. Tony hadn't seen all of her post-pregnancy body yet, though. He had helped Ziva get dressed a few times, helped her in the shower two or three times and had washed her hair once for more of an _'Out of Africa'-_reason than real necessity. However, Ziva had yet to show any incentive to get more physical than that; but little was farther from his mind right now.

Tony's eyes lit up despite it all. "Yes?"

"Yes." She smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

Abby took that as a safe sign to step forward again. "So, I'm staying?"

Ziva looked between her partner and best friend. "You will call?", she asked, focusing on Tony.

"On the dot", he assured her.

"Then you are staying, and following?", Ziva said, a little unsure what Abby _'tailing'_ her would actually entail this entire afternoon.

Abby saluted. "On your six."

Leaving Tony to put away groceries, Ziva led the way upstairs and to the room directly across from the master bedroom. The room was painted in light colors, and they had consciously opted for the brightest of the rooms upstairs to turn into the nursery. The shelves and cupboards were stacked with the many things they had found were necessary when having a baby, and with even more things they had forgotten were necessary and had thankfully received as gifts from friends and family. Ziva gently lifted her son out of the carrier and put him into his crib; handmade, with Hebrew carvings, per Gibbs. Ziva fished for a red-black-white stuffed tiger at the other end of the mattress and put it next to the little boy, unable to keep herself from tracing David's tiny fist with her finger as she did so.

"He will look for it if it is not there", she remarked, indicating the stuffed animal.

Abby stepped a little closer, tilting her head just enough to catch the look of adoration on Ziva's face. She had seen her friend with the baby before, of course, but never at a moment this private and serene. "Noted", she assured her quietly.

Ziva nodded. "It is from Gibbs."

Abby looked at the tiger. She knew that. She had even been there the day Gibbs had given it to Ziva. She didn't know if Ziva had even said it to her, really, and chose not to reply at all. Instead, she just waited for Ziva to tear her eyes away from her son. When she did, she pulled off the gear and her jacket, dropping both on the changing table. She lifted her arms and stretched.

"You look exhausted", Abby observed, a note of concern woven through her statement.

Tony had been back at work for a few weeks now and more often than not her questions as to Ziva's condition and spirits were kicked off by variants of _"She's tired"_, usually coupled with lots of gushing about his newly discovered and already favorite son and love for the mother of his child. However, nobody could deny that the pregnancy had been strenuous for Ziva, and that David's early state had not helped matters a lot. Things were definitely looking up now, but parenthood was generally done on just about too little sleep - any way you turned it.

A huff escaped Ziva's lips. "I should not be."

"You're not the judge of that", Abby countered, stepping up to her best friend. "According to Tony, that's the only order I'm free to disregard."

Ziva shook her head. "Lunch-"

"I'll get on lunch. I'll catch Tony on the way out, coordinate", Abby cut in quickly, her hands already finding their way to Ziva's shoulders. "You go and get an hour of sleep."

"Abby." Ziva's voice might have sounded out a protest, but her arms had quickly reached for her jacket and the baby monitor as she was led out, quite willingly, into the hallway. Abby silently pointed at the door of the nursery and Ziva shook her head, handing the baby monitor to her friend. "I will hear him."

A big smile erupted on Abby's face at the motherly nonchalance of it. "Ninja mommy senses."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, but her features smiled in spite of it. "You sound like Tony."

After she had made sure Ziva was actually lying down and not only pretending to, Abby went downstairs and caught Tony in the middle of packing his backpack. He gave her a brief tour of their kitchen supplies before dashing out of the door upon Abby's ready insistence. A few minutes later, leaving the water to boil, Abby took to the living room on her own. Tony and Ziva had moved into the apartment shortly after finding out about her pregnancy. Abby had helped them move and spent an entire afternoon figuring out Ziva's labeling technique for boxes. She had been at their place quite a few times in the past two months, too, helping Tony out, setting up for the baby, and arranging the welcome-baby party.

Surveying the living room now, however, she couldn't help but realize how much it had changed over the past few weeks. There was a playpen, colorful blankets, toys littered all over. A camera was sitting on the coffee table, with Tony's eager daddy-fingerprints all over it. And the picture frames on the shelf had easily doubled since her last visit; pictures of a family past and a smiling pair had been easily outnumbered by pictures of a family present.

Abby couldn't contain herself, a grin straddling her face as she walked over to inspect their picturesque ranks. It was true, being parents suited both Tony and Ziva; and, in all honesty, those two had been the least likely at the beginning. One of Palmer's candid shot particularly attracted her attention: the moment Ziva, David safely cradled in her arms, had stepped over the threshold of their apartment for the first time. Tony was standing behind them, his hand on Ziva's upper arm, and a goofy grin alight on his face. It was true, being parents suited both of them.

* * *

><p>Abby figured that Ziva's eating habits were heavily dependent on David's now, so she had opted for food they could easily reheat at any time later on. She was just putting on a teapot for Ziva, when soft cries emanated from the baby monitor beside her. Abby darted upstairs, but when she arrived in David's room, Ziva was already leaning over the side of the crib and lifting the little boy into her arms. Her hair was still tangled from sleep, her eyes small from having just woken up. She was speaking softly in a language Abby didn't recognize, but guessed was Hebrew. She watched as David's movements stilled in his mother's arms, and his cries dwindled down to small puffs of breath.<p>

"He will usually stop crying as soon as he knows someone has come for him", Ziva narrated as she swayed from side to side, smiling away the tingling sensation of her son nuzzling up against her neck.

Abby nodded, but remained rooted to her spot in the doorframe as Ziva walked over to the rocking chair in the corner by the window and settled down with her son. It only dawned on Abby what was about to happen, when Ziva proceeded to open her top. Abby quickly turned around. "Sorry, do you want me to-"

"It is alright, Abby", Ziva assured her friend, not breaking away from her son's mesmerizing gaze as she arranged him in her arms. "I am not nearly as self-conscious about my breasts as I am about everything else."

Abby was momentarily hit by the gravity of her words, but the smile on Ziva's face signaled it safe for her to take the remaining steps into the room and sink onto a small stool beside her. She was probably sitting in Tony's designated spot now, she realized. She had actually never seen someone nurse their baby before and, she had to admit, it was a weirdly beautiful sight.

Ziva was caressing David's cheek with the back of her finger, her hair cascading down her sides, while the little boy clutched a few of its strands and the hem of her shirt in his ridiculously tiny baby fist. "They say some babies do not like to be at all distracted while nursing." She tilted her head down, leaning in close to her son, his scent washing over her. "But this is our little trick, yes, neshomeleh?", she cooed.

Abby smiled, recognizing that particular word as a term of endearment Ziva had chosen early on during her pregnancy. She cocked her head to the side, her mouth twisting pointedly. "I'm not sure I'll need to make use of that trick, though."

Ziva chuckled. "It is universal."

For a while the smacking sound of David eagerly quenching his hunger was the only sound in the room. Ziva shifted him a little as she noticed his eyes were starting to droop, her palm gently running up and down his back. "Would you like to burp him after?", she asked, her eyes flickering to her friend for the first time.

Abby nodded, if a little unsure. "If you show me how."

"It is the purpose of this setup, yes?" Ziva smiled, reaching for a burp cloth on the changing table.

"You know, Tony tried to make a list before?", Abby inquired.

"A list?"

"Yes. He wanted to have a list ready for me, what to do and what to pay attention to, you know", she explained. "So he could just whisk you away on a white horse or something."

Ziva got up and walked over to her friend, her eyes narrowed. "This is much better."

"I told him that, too." Abby nodded. "But he was pretty bummed out that night as it was."

"Was this a little over a week ago? When-"

"Yes."

Ziva nodded her head, realization hitting close. She had spent the entire month in the hospital with David. Tony had visited all the time, of course, but he hadn't been there at night and he had been putting in quite a few hours at work, so that he would be able to actually spend David's first weeks at home with them. Even if they discounted nursing, David had no doubt been spending much more time with his mother. Mother and son had already developed little tricks and quirks that Ziva had spent most of the last month sharing with Tony. But, at times, it had driven Tony to the brink of exasperation not to know, to be left out of the loop, and that night, the night Abby was referring to, he had felt of particularly little use during one of David's crying fits. It hadn't helped much that they had both been going on a dozen lacks of sleep and that they had ended up in a fight through their drowsiness. He had left when Ziva had dosed off in the nursery; she had noticed, but been too tired to act on it. Returning an hour later, he had just dismissed all of her questions.

Diligently Ziva placed her son into Abby's arms and softly whispered to him, so he would know she was there. They had found, early on, that David did not appreciate anyone's but Tony's and her presence around his meal times. She patiently coached Abby in how he liked them to move, a smile erupting on her face when her son let go of her finger that he had held tightly clasped in his little fist up until then and settled down contentedly on his Auntie's shoulder.

"He is watching Disney movies with him now after I feed him", Ziva said, her eyes never leaving her son. "Or when he gets up with him."

Abby grinned. "Sounds perfect."

Ziva nodded. "If Tony can just find his own way of doing things, he will be wonderful at them."

She titled her head to the side and tore her eyes away from her son and friend. She looked around the room: the books Tony had bought, the movie collection he had initiated for their son's birthdays, the ghosts of her partner bouncing around his son's room in the middle of the night, humming in a beautifully off-key tone the melodies of movie scores. David had recently started grabbing at everything in his reach and she saw the pure joy in Tony's eyes whenever it was his face that his son was reaching for. Tony could be so insecure sometimes when it came to his own abilities. She had dedicated part of her being with him to assuring him, whenever he needed to hear it, that he was being a wonderful father. He had already proven as much; and seeing him with their son, even seeing him insecure and anxious, had made her fall even more in love with him.

Abby recognized the faraway look in her friend's eyes. "You really got him figured out, don't you?"

Ziva looked at David. "I just know your daddy very well, yes?"

"You help him be the Tony he can be", Abby declared, grinning.

Ziva smiled. It rang so true. "Just as he allows me to be who I am."

* * *

><p>David had fallen asleep with remarkably little trouble afterwards, which Abby wasn't shy to point out and Ziva was quick to chalk up to the time of the day. It would be getting harder in the later hours of the afternoon, she promised. After eating lunch together and filling Ziva in on the office gossip, the two women retreated to the master bedroom in search for an outfit to go with a possible date. Ziva was suddenly very grateful for the many times Tony had dragged her shopping for new dresses after declaring, with exceeding irritation, that the two she had possessed before hadn't nearly been enough. Abby first helped her pick out a few potentialities, but then knowingly withdrew to the hallway and waited for Ziva to show off whichever dress she wanted to show off. Tony had been clear about that.<p>

Following an onslaught of frustrated grunts that prompted Abby to call in to make sure her friend was okay more than once, Ziva eventually emerged from the bedroom wearing a medium-length black dress with a white sash-shaped segment running down the front. The fabric seemed forgiving enough to the few added curves of Ziva's post-pregnancy body, but she seemed every bit unconvinced about her attire.

"Ziva, look at you! This is great", Abby gushed, stepping over to her friend and trying to chase away the uncertain expression on Ziva's face with her smile. "You look great."

"I am not so sure", Ziva said quietly, walking over to the body-length mirror. "This." Her hand flew to her stomach, then ran in a straight line back over her hips.

"Remember, if you're not comfortable, you can just put on a pair of jeans and a shirt and the two of you can go to Gibbs' place. Or you don't go out at all", Abby assured her, coming up behind Ziva and smiling at her reflection. "But you do look great. We can totally work with this. If you want, we can find a belt to go with the dress. Whatever it takes to make you more comfortable."

Ziva couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Tony instructed you well."

"I don't need any instruction for this", Abby insisted, placing a hand on Ziva's shoulder. "Okay?"

Ziva thought about it for a moment, her eyes darting back to her reflection in the mirror, biting her bottom lip. Then she nodded her head and the two of them returned to the bedroom to turn her closet inside out for accessories. An hour later they were interrupted by David's wails once again. Abby offered to get him while Ziva changed out of her clothes. Abby once again put herself on burping duty while Ziva waited for Tony's routine afternoon call to tell him that they were going to go to _Giacomo's_ tonight after all. Abby could hear the delight in Tony's voice from ten feet away on the other end of the hallway.

Tony had gotten ready at the office thereafter and returned home just in time for David's bath, during which Abby marveled at his uncanny ability not to ruin his dress shirt in the process. Afterwards, he rushed Abby through a full training session of fixing the bottles Ziva had pre-prepared and subsequently feeding his son. It didn't take Abby long to realize that, in fact, Tony seemed much more particular about her watching David than Ziva had been all afternoon. He had quickly launched into a list of things to mind, which then took a sharp turn and ended up just being a list of David-trivia that he simply seemed happy to share with her.

Ziva was getting ready upstairs in the meantime, while they were waiting for her in the living room. Abby was seated beside Tony, who was balancing his son in his lap to their obvious and mutual delight. Abby laughed out loud every time David tried to mimic some of Tony's weirdly expressive facial somersaults.

"He could be more active with the rolling around for his age", Tony explained, screwing his face up at once and prompting a hail of breathy giggles from his son. "But you can knock yourself out getting him to copy you."

Abby didn't need to be told twice to rise to the challenge and leaned forward, bringing her face between father and son. David promptly reached out his hand and drove it straight into Abby's wiggling pigtails, burying his fingers in her dark strands and twisting them around, so that he tugged some of them along when he yanked his hand back a moment later.

"Woah, eager." Abby's surprised yelp elicited a small giggle from the little boy.

Tony's hand was quickly cupping his son's, keeping him occupied while Abby moved to straighten her pigtail. He couldn't help but laugh at her. "Right, you should know we have a little hair fetish going on", Tony quipped, grinning at his son. "Ziva usually has her hair down when she holds him and he's recently discovered they're really fun to play with."

Abby touched the tip of the little boy's nose. "Just the right move for the ladies."

"Oh, the future!", Tony crooned, his smile turning into a mischievous grin.

"He will be just like his father, I am sure", Ziva remarked, suddenly turning up beside them. Tony's head whipped around just in time to catch her knowing smile.

"You look gorgeous", Abby enthused at once.

She had helped assemble the outfit, yes, but Ziva had rounded it off with jewelry and had put her hair up, possibly well aware that she would pick up her son at least once before leaving and thus taking preemptive measures in light of his newfound interest in long, wavy hair.

"I am hiding most of what is not gorgeous", Ziva retorted.

David's head had whirled around much the same as Tony's had to the familiar sound of his mother's voice. Seeing as she was tediously failing to react to his eager look, however, and growing impatient, his little arms now shot out into her direction. Ziva, recognizing his irritated yelps, bent forward and plucked her son out of Tony's lap.

"This will be our first night apart, neshomeleh", she said. One arm was holding him tightly against her, while the other enveloped his tiny hands to keep him from substituting her Magen David pendant for the absence of any hair within his reach.

"It won't be a full night", Tony assured her with a smile, getting up from the couch. He took a step back to take in Ziva's appearance in full, his smile easily making way to a look of utter reverence. "You are beautiful."

Ziva lifted her eyes from her son to offer him a coy smile. "Thank you."

"The whole picture", he went on, his hands drawing an invisible box around her, radiant, with their son in her arms. "You're perfect."

Abby felt happily out-of-place as Tony's and Ziva's eyes locked, and was only too ready to answer the door when the doorbell rang through their moment. "I'll get it."

Tony watched her leave the room, then took a step towards Ziva, their gaze not breaking. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Her eyes once again dropped to the baby in her arms and David's serene expression. The little boy had already abandoned any hope of getting to play with anything but his mother's hands right now and had contentedly settled against her chest, tugging and slapping at her fingers with the hint of a smile on his face.

"Yes, I am sure."

"Thank you", he said, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead.

"You still here?" Gibbs' booming voice cut through their moment, but the crooked smile on his face told them he had waited until now to announce himself.

"Gibbs?", Ziva asked, her probing look more directed at Tony than the man in question.

Tony shrugged. "Worry rate less than eighty percent, remember? Grandpa and Auntie will be both taking care of little one tonight."

"Don't settle on the Grandpa thing too soon, DiNozzo", Gibbs said, stepping up to them. His eyes then landed on Ziva. "You ready?"

Ziva shifted David in her arms and settled him against her shoulder, one hand on his back and the other caressing his head. "I do not think I can ever be ready for this."

The smile reappeared on Gibbs's face. "Small steps, Ziver."

Ziva sighed and turned her head to nuzzle her son's soft cheek. "Mommy will see you in a little while, neshomeleh", she whispered, brushing a kiss against his temple. "I love you."

Tony realized at once that this was the first time either Abby or Gibbs had heard Ziva say that. It wasn't that those two were surprised to hear it, they certainly didn't appear as though they were. But for Tony it was momentous, to know that Ziva was not afraid to be this open about her emotions and affections around more than just him.

David was getting restless against Ziva's shoulder, though, obviously very unhappy about facing away from the many interesting faces and voices. Ziva and Tony shared a small laugh and she handed him over to his father, finding it easier to give her son to her partner than anybody else right now.

Tony lifted the little boy above his head. "You be good for your Uncle Gibbs and Auntie Abby", he said, grinning. "You only have three _Get-off-DiNozzo-free-cards_."

Gibbs scoffed and eventually accepted the baby into his arms. He held him with his back against his chest, allowing him a prime view of his parents as Tony slung an arm around Ziva and gently started pushing her towards the foyer.

Abby stepped up and took a hold of David's hand, moving it for him in a wave goodbye. "See you soon, mommy and daddy."

Ziva and Tony shared another look, and a small smile, before he opened the door for her.

"We'll be okay", Gibbs assured them. His eyes, however, were focused entirely on Ziva.

Ziva nodded and followed Tony outside. He snapped the door shut behind him with a last, grateful smile. Ziva didn't move for a moment, her eyelids sliding shut as she tuned in to the sounds behind the door. If she had feared for crying to ensue, she had been mistaken. They could hear the muffled sounds of Abby and Gibbs talking for a while, before they obviously moved away from the foyer.

"If you want, we can call in on them every half an hour", Tony said, leaving it to her to interpret his words either as a joke or a serious suggestion.

Ziva smiled. "I am alright."

"You sure?"

"Yes", she said, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. She took his hand. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>They arrived at <em>Giacomo's Tavern<em> not a minute early, but were quickly ushered to the back of the restaurant following the owner's familiar and flamboyant greeting. Tony had been a regular for a long time, but ever since he had started taking Ziva there, it seemed the whole staff, a family business, had taken a particular, and peculiar, interest in their budding and blossoming relationship.

Ziva was mildly surprised to find that they were being led to a room where theirs was the only table. She had not been to that part of the restaurant before either, but it was beautiful. The walls were lined with bricks, the pillars of an arcade to both sides enveloped by olive branches and the odd interlude of oleander blossoms.

Tony had quickly declined the wine, but other than that they had not placed a single order; the food kept coming anyway. Ziva was slowly and surely getting the feeling that this was not the typical kind of date, but she chose not to dwell on it for long. She simply let the moment lead the way, sitting across from her partner, talking and not talking. The flame of a candle flickered idly between them. It wasn't until they had surrendered halfway through dessert and Tony had put his hand on top of hers that she noticed his palms were sweating.

She squeezed his hand, her eyes narrowing. "Are you feeling alright, Tony?"

"Of course", he replied, a nervous smile erupting on his face. "Why?"

Ziva tilted her head to the side. "Tony."

A small laugh escaped his lips. "Now or never, right?", he retorted, pulling his hand from her grasp and instead reaching into his jacket pocket.

Ziva's eyes widened instantly as Tony got up, stepped over and got down on one knee beside her. He rolled his eyes up at her, the nervous smile still playing on his lips. He held up a small velvet box and snapped it open to reveal a white-gold, brilliant ring with a single stone elevated in the middle.

He took a deep breath. "Ziva David, will you marry me?"

"Tony", she breathed, her hand flying out to grab a hold of one of his. "What-"

"I am asking you to marry me. I am asking you to share your life with me."

Ziva stared into his eyes. "We have not been leading separate lives for a very long time."

"Leap with me."

"But we already leapt."

"That's true", he said, trying to keep his voice light and trying to boost up his smile once again as he could feel it falter under her incessant stare.

"Tony", she whispered again, feeling overwhelmed by the force of his pose and the look in his eyes. "Do you really want this?"

"I do", he insisted. "I really want this to be part of our package."

A smile formed on Ziva's lips. "Have you ever thought of us as a well-bundled package?"

Despite the tumble his stomach had just taken at the obvious lack of affirmation on her part, a small laugh ripped through his chest. "More like entangled rope", he retorted as he slowly snapped the box back shut, his arms slowly sinking to his sides.

Ziva felt her heart ache at the sight of him and her hands shot out, cupping his face. She couldn't think of anything else to do right now than sink to the floor beside him and catch his lips in a kiss. She could feel him resist her for a fleeting second, before he let go, placing his palm on the small of her back and pushing her closer to him.

When they pulled back, Ziva's hands were still resting on his face. She brushed a finger repeatedly over one of his brows, smiling. "You were right, you really do rock proposals."

Tony offered her a small laugh. "Never seems to work, though."

"Please, Tony. This is not a rejection", she held, emphasizing every word, her eyes roaming in his. "I love you. I want this life with you. More than anything, you gave me a life to have. And you gave me our beautiful son. I am already yours."

"But you won't marry me."

Ziva dipped her head to the side. "If you really want me to marry you to make sure that I am all yours, I will. I will say yes."

Tony started to shake his head, unable to look at anything but her. "That's not- I mean, I don't know. I just wanted something official, I guess."

"And something official must mean marriage?"

"Traditionally does."

Ziva smiled. "We are not traditional. In the traditions that I was raised, we are not traditional."

Tony took in her words, realizing that there was maybe more to consider here. "I never realized that you-"

"Because it does not make a difference to us." Ziva shook her head. "I want this to be how we are. I want us to be about accepting each other without needing acceptance from anything or anyone in our place. I am not saying no to marrying you, Tony. I am saying yes to being with you. Does that sound so silly?"

Tony mimicked the position of her head and took a hold of her hands. He led them to his lips and brushed a kiss against them. "No, it doesn't sound silly, Ziva."

"I trust you, Tony. I trust you to stay. Nothing and no one will give me the same kind of faith that you have given me, continually, over the past two years", she said. "Maybe even longer."

A smile formed on his face. "You rock un-proposals, I have to give you that."

"I love you, Tony."

"I love you too", he replied, that sentence having been the easiest to say all night. "But don't you want some kind of guarantee?"

"I already have you."

"And I won't ever leave."

"What more can marriage do for us?", she asked.

He looked at her. He could feel the weight of the small box in his jacket pocket. This didn't feel anything like the rejection he had received once before, but he couldn't deny that something in him was disappointed. Or, was it? Was it really disappointment, or the numb feeling of a plan unaccomplished? She wasn't going to leave him. Ziva was right there; ring on her finger or not. This was about faith, trust. They had come to a point where she trusted him without needing more from him than, well, himself.

He moved to get up from the ground, tugging her upright with him. Then he cupped her face in his hands and leaned in for another kiss, a longer, more passionate one this time. He also didn't pull back fully afterwards, and instead slung his arms around her, hugging her close to him. He could feel her breath against his neck, he could feel her eyelids slide over her eyes.

A soft sigh emanated from her lips. "I am sorry you went to so much trouble-"

"You are never trouble", he insisted. "If anything, you're always worth it."

Ziva slightly moved in her position, so she could roll her eyes up to look at him. "Maybe we can exchange vows. Promises. Just for the family."

He smiled, nodding his head. "I would like that."

* * *

><p>When they arrived home a little before ten that night, Abby was already passed out on the couch and Gibbs greeted them with a smile from his position on the lounger across from her. They thanked him and jointly decided not to wake Abby; tomorrow was Sunday, there was no urgency. The front door had barely snapped shut, when Ziva set out for upstairs and pulled Tony along, their hands still entwined. They took a sharp left and ended up beside David's crib, their son sleeping peacefully inside, enveloped in a bundle of blankets and one of his tiny fists tightly clasping his stuffed tiger. Ziva moved her face into the crook of Tony's neck as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.<p>

"He's all the proof we need, isn't he?", Tony whispered, smiling at her.

Ziva nodded. "All we ever need."


	42. Other-Side

**Chap 42 Other-Side**

**Saturday, April 17****th**** 2021**

Tony awoke to a familiar scent of lilac and a hand gently brushing against his cheek. Without opening his eyes a smile settled on his face. He reached out and trailed his hands along the sides of her body, until they came to rest on the small of her back. He applied the slightest pressure and could feel the mattress tilt with her shuffling closer to him. Rustling. Before long, her lips lingered on his and he finally opened his eyes, pinning down her gaze.

"Feeling good about ourselves this morning, aren't we?", he remarked, smirking.

Her face was still only an inch from his. "I did not dream tonight."

His eyelids slipped open completely. "No nightmares?"

"None."

He leaned up for another kiss, realizing that it had probably been the first blank night in a long time for her, not to have woken, not to have remembered. It was too much, still, to hope that she would only ever dream of good and happy, but not being haunted, for a change, was the best they could hope for at the moment.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?"

Ziva titled her head to the side. "So, I was not imagining things yesterday?"

He rolled his head against the softness of his pillow. "Was I imagining that proposition about vows and big gestures?"

"No, and I stand by it", she confirmed, placing her palm flat on his chest. "I want you to have this. I want us to have this."

He smiled. "Then we will."

"I will put Abby on it", she said, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Right this afternoon."

"That's how serious you are, huh?"

He lifted his head again, trying to reach her lips, but Ziva slightly yanked her head back, her smile shifting gears to form a seductive grin. She waited another beat, and he watched her eyes scroll down his face until they landed on his mouth. She halted her gaze on his lips. He had to smile. Ziva had always had this habit of fixing his lips, almost inquisitively, as though she was recollecting his words or reminding herself just how very differently and just how attentively his words were chosen when directing them at her, of all people.

"That is how serious I am, my love." Finally, she inclined her head for another kiss.

She gave him a few minutes to collect himself after pulling back, waiting with her shoulder pressed again the doorframe as he removed his body slowly from the comfort of their bed. She followed him downstairs and stayed close-by while he fixed himself a cup of coffee. They didn't talk much. They had covered most of the pressing issues yesterday at dinner anyway. It was actually a nice change to just go through the motions, make the steps, and not encumber their morning with thoughts and thinking ahead.

He enjoyed the attention of her eyes as she followed his every move. She was leaning against the sink, her hands casually tucked into her pockets, and she barely moved either when he wound himself around her for access to the faucet. His arm instinctively trailed along her midline before he rested his palm on her hip. Her face turned into his cheek, her smile tickling his morning stubble. While he watched the water seep into the pot, she pushed herself a little up against the counter and kissed a spot by the corner of his eye. He was ticklish there, she had once discovered, and it promptly carved a deep grin into his face. He set the pot down in the sink and turned off the water before finally turning to look at her. Her playful smirk and his grin touched, only faintly, and he could see her eyes narrow once he stepped back and over to the other side of the kitchen.

He heard her coming closer, but remained with his back to her. She lifted her hand to the base of his neck and smiled when she could feel the muscles beneath her fingertips clench in what she knew was a smile.

"I love you", she whispered into his ear and proceeded to leave the kitchen, but not before squeezing the hand he had propped up on the counter.

"Tease", he called after her. The sound of her knowing laughter that drifted back from the living room easily held his smile in place.

He listened carefully to her steps and moves, so familiar and Ziva, until she had closed the front door behind her. He chuckled well into his first sip of coffee that morning and went upstairs with her laughter still echoing in his ears. He quickly checked the kids' rooms, but they were both sleeping restfully. It was still too early anyway. On the other side of the hallway, however, a crack in the door of the study painted a triangle of light onto the paneling. Eliana had already been asleep when Ziva and he had come home last night. Only Gibbs had waited up.

"Morning", Tony greeted, pushing the door open a little bit more.

"Good morning", Eliana returned. She was already dressed and sitting on the couch, reading.

He took a step to the side to fully enter the room. He motioned towards the computer and the desk by the window. "Do you mind?"

She followed his eyes and shook her head. "Not at all." She watched as Tony walked over and took a seat, starting to sort through the stacks of paper covering most of the wooden surface. "Work?", she asked.

"I wish", he huffed, his back still turned. "The dirty money business of a family of four."

"I understand", she said and audibly closed her book. "Do you want me to leave?"

Tony moved a few envelopes to the far corner of the desk and weighted them down dismissively with his mug. He waved her off with a shrug, offering her a nonchalant smile. "Bunch of zeros means zero to hide."

He didn't wait for her reaction before proceeding to open a few tabs in quick, routine succession. But his sentence resounded in her head as she tried to make sense of it. "Tony, you and Ziva", she started, choosing her words slowly, "You do not have-"

"I was kidding", he confirmed lightly, turning halfway in his position to show off his smile. "Ziva and I got it covered, really. But I appreciate the very motherly concern."

She couldn't help it, a laugh escaped her lips. She paused for a second, surprised by her own reaction and waiting for Tony to validate it, but he readily did with a lingering smile. "I am trying to be good, though", she replied.

Tony nodded. "Yeah…"

Their small moment passed and Tony returned to the task at hand, just as Eliana returned to the book in her lap. They spread utter silence between them for a while. It seemed like the easiest thing to do and there was little incentive on either one's part to dig themselves into any possible awkwardness. Instead of the words from the page reflecting in her mind, however, Eliana was hearing Tony's words from two weeks ago, from their very first conversation, echoing incessantly.

"Tony, who are you?", Eliana asked offhandedly, fixing his back with her eyes.

Tony was just cross-checking a few numbers when her question hit him. He turned around in his chair and frowned at her. "What?"

"I have been here for over two weeks and I know nothing about the man by my daughter's side", she elaborated quickly.

Tony smiled, cocking his head a little to the side. "Well, it's not exactly about me, is it?"

Eliana was instantly reminded of Gibbs' words from the night before. For all she knew of Ziva's upbringing after her involuntary departure, and all the missing details she had achingly substituted, her daughter had certainly managed to surround herself with people who regarded her interests at a much higher order than their own.

"Ziva chose you", she insisted, pointedly snapping her book shut and abandoning it on the couch beside her. "She holds you responsible for the life she leads today. I think it is quite a lot about you."

Tony's eyes had gained that fervent light she had witnessed ignite a few times already, never as clearly and openly as that previous morning in the kitchen when it had sparked her idea to give him and Ziva a night to themselves. Eliana wondered if she was overstepping the little leeway that she had been granted by now and Tony's lack of response almost ascertained her transgression. However, the smile that had crept silently and persistently onto his face caused her to continue anyway.

"White or blue?", she asked.

Tony's eyebrows lifted. "Riddle?"

"Preference pairs", she corrected, folding her hands in her lap. "White or blue?"

He chuckled and pushed his head a little forward, searching her eyes. "Are you serious?", he exclaimed. He hadn't expected just this level of offhandedness from the woman he had gotten to know thus far.

"What, Tony?", she shot back, the edges of her mouth curling upward. "Are you afraid that somebody other than Ziva could figure you out?"

That actually managed to elicit a laugh from him. He recognized the playful glint in Eliana's eyes; he had seen it countless times in Ziva's. He reached around himself for his half-empty mug and settled it in his lap, straightening up. "Bring it on", he challenged and squared his shoulders. "White or blue? Suit, blue."

Eliana nodded. "Long or short?"

He squinted his eyes shut inquisitively. "Hair?"

"If you want."

"Long", he determined. "And if you'd ever seen your kid fall asleep clutching his mom's hair, you'd never say different."

Eliana smiled at the image readily forming in her mind. "Slow dancer or fast?"

"Not much of a dancer at all. Ziva's the real dancer", he declared, taking a sip from his coffee to bask in the memories of the other night. Looking off into the distance of the hallway and with a soft smile twirling on his lips that easily jumped in and out of a grin, he added, "But I'm the man for slow, deep-gaze, close, right-in-the-moment dancing."

Eliana titled her head to the side and waited for him to find her gaze again, before asking, "Have you ever seen her dance?"

"You mean like actual dancing?"

"Yes."

"She did ballet as a kid, didn't she?", Tony checked, meeting Eliana's nod as he nudged the handle of his mug. "No, never actually seen her. I don't know if she'd let herself try now anyway. You know, just to see if she could still do it."

"It would be quite painful, I imagine", Eliana said, her voice quieter than before.

"There's a lot of things she's never gotten to do that she might have liked to do or done if things, you know, had been different", Tony declared, stifling a batch of breath in his throat. "But it's all about perspective, you know? Two months ago Tali came home all wound up because they'd watched a video of ballerinas dancing in class and she'd decided to become a ballerina."

"Did she now?"

Tony nodded. "It's not like Ziva to get all worked-up and gushy about things like that. She'd never start pushing Tali to take classes or start talking about tutus and sparkly clothes", he went on. "She just smiled and patiently listened to Tali babbling on and on about the video for days and days. So, maybe Tali's gonna be a ballerina, who knows? And if that happens, you know… Things just tend to happen. When they don't happen one way, maybe they happen another way."

Tony looked up to catch her eyes the moment Eliana opened her mouth to say something, but the smile on his face stopped her. It was almost reassuring. "Flowers or candles?", she asked instead.

"At a dinner, both. But there's no way you'll get the same response giving someone a bouquet of candles", he stated evenly, before hitting himself with an idea and a quiet _'huh'_. "But I'm intrigued to try anyway."

Eliana's eyebrows shot up. "Do you think Ziva would appreciate that?"

"Ziva has long stopped questioning and moved to accepting", he said. "We both have. At least with each other."

"Sun or snow?"

"Holiday in the sun, definitely. Come on", he added the last part in a mixture of whining and daring. He took his last sip of coffee and set his mug down on the desk, clapping his now free hands. "Bring out the big guns. What d'you really wanna know about Tony DiNozzo?"

"You keep making it about Ziva", she countered.

Tony laughed, a knowing smirk forming on his face. "I know. I'm just. _That_ good."

Eliana straightened slightly in her position. "Is it harder to forgive yourself or others?"

Tony slowly slid back in his chair, underscoring his movement with a long-winding _'aha'_. "I knew there was something lurking there."

"I know the signs. Better than you think", she admitted, pressing her lips into a thin line.

He rested his palms flatly on his abdomen, eyeing her through narrowed eyes. "I've made mistakes", he started, raising his chin. "I let people get away. I hurt some. I didn't want to care about some. Job comes with a whole lot of guilt all on its own."

"So", she deduced slowly, "It's yourself."

"You know, Ziva and I are very similar-"

"Tony-"

"No", he stopped her, once again inching forward. "You don't get to ask questions about me without getting answers about Ziva."

She nodded, feeling herself come up against his resolve. "Okay."

"It took me about all of my life to figure out how to deal with it, while it took Ziva half of her life just to learn that it was okay to let herself feel anything at all", he explained.

A soft huff escaped Eliana's lips and she started to shake her head. It always resounded in her head as a personal failure, to hear about the childhood she had opted out of; not deliberately, but consequences had been just the same. "Her upbringing-"

"Not award-worthy, if you ask me", he declared.

"There are not many fans of Eli's around, it turns out", Eliana educed, her eyebrows briefly shooting up. The picture that had been painted of her husband thus far certainly was the most fractioned, and the comforting parts certainly weren't dominant.

"He let her think that loyalty to him came at the expense of herself. And then he left her for dead", Tony shot back. "That's who he is to me. If Ziva needs to get over that to find her peace, I respect that. If he's genuinely trying with our kids, I respect that. They deserve it, because Ziva deserves to see it happen. But I'm like the outsourced anger and disappointment here. Because he'll always be a bastard to me, no matter what he does."

"Seems to be a fair enough deal", she offered quietly, processing his words. She didn't know where _'leaving Ziva for dead'_ fit in the greater scheme of things, but given recent glances at her daughter's past furnished a pretty good idea where it might.

Tony nodded. "Thought so too."

He waited for a beat, allowing the emotion in her eyes to settle. When it did, he propped his hands up on the armrest of his chair and pushed himself into a standing position.

"Looking forward or back?", Eliana asked then, stopping the words that had tickled at his lips. She rolled her eyes up at him, a small smile flickering across her face.

Tony returned her smile just as Ziva's voice erupted from somewhere downstairs, calling his name. One corner of his mouth shot farther upwards, leaving his smile crooked, but even brighter than before. He tilted his head a little to the side.

"Forward, always forward", he answered easily. "You should see the director's cut I've got going in my head. _Palme d'Or-_"

"Daddy?", Tali's called out drowsily as the little girl stumbled in through the door, her eyes barely open enough to make the man in question out against the brightness of the morning.

"Princess?" Tony couldn't help but laugh, crossing the distance between them quickly and crouching down before her; more so to keep her from bumping into furniture than anything else.

Tali threw out her hands, planting her palms flatly against his shoulders. "Mommy called you", she informed him.

"I heard", he replied, brushing a few wayward curls from her face.

The little girl nodded. "When mommy calls, there's food", she went on, her eyelids actually going up all the way this time to regard him with all her glorious sincerity.

Tony chuckled. "Then we better get down there, huh?"

Tali nodded, letting go of him and turning on her heel. She was already halfway out of the door, when she whipped back around and leaned a little to the side, her eyes landing on Eliana. "Boker tov", she greeted with a smile.

"Boker tov, Tali", Eliana returned and got up as well, her granddaughter's sincere regard drawing a smile on her face.

The five-year-old's steps could soon be heard echoing in the hallway as she made her way downstairs and Ziva's laugh drifted up to them once Tali had arrived at her food source. Tony was on his way to go and check on David before joining them, but he paused in the doorway and looked back at Eliana. He placed a hand on the doorframe, slightly tapping the wood in tune to his thoughts.

"For what it's worth, Ziva basically had me figured out the moment we met. Or she might've liked me sooner", he relayed. The endearing sounds of his daughter and her mother comfortably distracted the one ear he had turned towards the staircase. "It's only when she realized who I _could_ be that more was ever going to happen, even if it didn't for a long time."

Eliana was surprised by his words, but it ultimately told her more about him than any of his answers to her previous questions had. "I would guess that you did not allow it to be any other way", she suggested.

"Long before there was a Ziva, I promised myself I would never let anybody close enough to make me miserable", he said, a cunning smile splitting his face. "I was going to be the one breaking hearts, not the one broken."

"And that changed?", she asked slowly.

"In came Ziva. And I'll admit, I was intrigued and, frankly, intimidated, and then I was performing my dance for a while and then I started ignoring it for a while and after a while we were best friends", he recounted. "And after another while she started to make me miserable in a million different ways. When I was with her and when I was without her. When the door was open and when it was closed. In a way Ziva's more prone to running away than I am."

Eliana noticed the undertones lacing that last assertion. "You ran away?", she inquired tentatively.

Tony rolled his head slowly from shoulder to shoulder. Ziva and he, and the kids, they had worked through that episode in their lives long and often enough in the past two years to make the answer and the story to tell there an easy one.

"I wouldn't call it running", he noted. "I made a decision. _We_, we made a decision. At the time I did what I had to do to really get it together, know where I needed to be. And I'm not saying it didn't have its downsides because, believe me, it had and a lot of them." Tony interrupted himself with a humorless chuckle. "But seeing how it turned out, it gets harder to hate on your own past."

"Is that your conclusion, yes?", Eliana asked.

"You never know real until it's been broken", he retorted with a small shrug. "I'm sure that's a lyric to a song somewhere."

With that left her to receive his smile with a simple nod.

* * *

><p>The kids had unbuckled themselves the second Tony had stopped the engine, but before their little hands had even so much as grabbed the door handles, Ziva had whistled them back. They were going to wait. So, everyone settled back in their seat obediently as they waited, staring out of the windows of Tony's Mustang in silence; far be it for anyone to question one of Ziva's more resolute commands. The kids knew that their uncle's and aunt's friend was going to join them for dinner, which matched the extent of what Liora knew about Nolan. Abby had sent Tony home last night only after he had promised to make sure that the kids were prepared for Nolan being there, and that they didn't know who he really was.<p>

"Mom?", David spoke up suddenly.

Ziva slightly turned in her seat to look at him, finding not only her son's, but also her daughter's eyes raised at her inquisitively. "Yes, tateleh?"

"Why aren't we going up?", he asked, alternating his gaze between his parents when Tony's face turned to join their merry round as well.

Tali nodded positively. "Yes, why aren't we, mommy?"

"Yes, Ziva", Tony added, frowning at his partner. "Why aren't we?"

"Because your Aunt Abby asked us to", Ziva replied simply, making sure to deliver her look of utter sincerity to all three of them.

Tony's frown promptly became more pronounced. "That's our reason?"

Ziva offered him a vague shrug. "It will be less awkward when we all arrive together."

"So, we really are just beautiful distractions, aren't we?", he said, a low huff escaping his lips.

Ziva laughed at the overly dramatic expression on his face. "Yes, I am afraid so", she returned, placing a hand on his thigh. "But always so beautiful, yes?"

Just when Tony was about to answer, ready to react in any way possible to the smile in her eyes, he noticed someone ascending the stairs of the apartment building who matched the description of Nolan that McGee had been thoughtful enough to furnish. He pointed at him through the windshield and Ziva followed his line of vision. She nodded approvingly.

"Let's move, people", Tony coached.

Each taking the hand of the child closest to them, they filed down the sidewalk and arrived at the front entrance only a few seconds behind Nolan. He hadn't yet figured out which button to push, when he was already surrounded by four people and four pairs of eyes were peering at him expectantly.

"What a coincidence", Tony exclaimed, the sardonic note in his voice hidden from anybody but Ziva. He held out his free hand. "You must be Nolan. I'm Tony."

"Ziva", Ziva offered in turn, also shaking his hand and trying to hide her amusement at just how overwhelmed the poor guy appeared to be by the situation, and how his sweaty palms were ample proof of it too.

Tali quickly diverted their attention by tugging on Tony's coat. "But, daddy, we were just-"

"Kids, this is Nolan", Tony cut in before their little girl could give away their pitiful attempts at stealth.

While the kids dutifully rushed through their greetings, Ziva had already moved around Nolan's perplexed expression and jabbed the right button for their friends' doorbell, leading the small congregation upstairs when they were buzzed in a moment later. McGee opened the door with obvious relief that Abby's little plan of having them all arrive at once had actually panned out. Ziva nodded good-naturedly at his mouthing of _'Thank you'_ while she helped the kids shed all of their surplus clothes. McGee hastily greeted Nolan and once again their guest was flushed through the foyer and into the next room with the flood of people surrounding him, not really getting a word in edgewise.

"Abby should be right down-"

"We are here, we are here", Abby announced, entering the room with Liora perched on her hip.

Tony was instantly alerted to the way the two-year-old's eyes scanned for and landed right on Tali, and how her intent gaze simultaneously twisted his daughter's lips in an all too familiar manner.

"You can save that mischievous smirk for later", Tony told her, gently placing his hands on his little girl's shoulders and steering her towards the dining room. "Dinner first, princess."

Tali offered her father the innocent smile she was so infamous for, but by the time Liora had touched down on the floor and scrambled over to her, the five-year-old received her cousin's rambling with excited nods and suspicious plans. Ziva and Abby shared a knowing glance. While the others filed into the adjacent room, Ziva followed her best friend into the kitchen. Following a quick survey of the counter she reached for two bowls that sat solitarily on the kitchen island.

"Tony didn't forget to tell you that we invited Eliana as well, did he?", Abby asked offhandedly, fishing a plate covered by tin foil out of the refrigerator.

Ziva was stopped short by the delivery of her mother's name and turned around. "No he did not", she replied. "He obediently recited your whole message just the way you taught him."

Abby waited for more, her arm and hand and the plate suspended in midair all the while. But Ziva's squared poise did not suggest her wanting to follow that assertion up with anything more substantial. "Okay", she conceded, grabbing the wine.

Ziva tilted her head a little to the side, a small smile curling the edges of her mouth. "We are fine", she assured her friend. "It is just wise to also spend some time apart."

Abby nodded her head. "Got it." She smiled and led her through the swing door into the dining room.

There they found the result of Tony's and McGee's skillful and prudent composition of the seating arrangement. Tony had judiciously shuffled Tali towards the chair beside Ziva on the one end of the table, whereas McGee had set up Liora on the opposite end. For all intents and purposes that brought enough distance between the two girls so as to forestall food portraits, food games and other variations of playing around for purposes of each other's entertainment. Their rule of alternating kids with adults left McGee and Nolan on the short ends of the table, respectively, facing each other. McGee had taken the seat beside his daughter, so that Nolan had a good view of the family he had come for that afternoon, and particularly of the little girl that was biologically, if nothing else, his.

A momentary stupor engulfed the dinner table as glances met across the dishes, but that quickly faded into a buoyant symphony of requests and compliments, clanging and clunking, hands moving from plate to plate and holding glasses, and more than one glass at once. While he piled gulps of mashed potatoes onto his plate, declined Tony offering him a glass of wine, accepted Ziva handing him the plate to return to David and decided on what else to choose, Nolan's eyes never left two-year-old Liora. He watched her closely while trying not to appear as if he was watching her at all. The bustling of voices around him provided ample distraction anyway.

He watched Abby point out different foods and asking for the little girl's liking. He couldn't deny that Liora uncannily matched most of Abby's antics, down to the smile on her face, the flailing of her arms and their short-fused gestures. He watched as Tim started negotiating the fact that Liora hadn't exactly chosen anything akin to a vegetable. The shift was obvious, Tim seemed like a constant within the flow that were Liora and Abby. Still, there was something visibly shared, a complementarity that showed most clearly during a quick back-and-forth of Tim holding up the fingers of his hand and Liora counting down just how many green beans she was willing to eat.

"So, you found here okay?", Abby's voice cut through Nolan's silent observations, yanking him right back into the center of the afternoon. By now everybody's eyes had once again turned on him, expecting an answer.

"Sure, yes. Yes, no problem", he replied, gripping his fork a little tighter. He forced himself to look at Abby and not the little girl beside her, who, unlike everyone else, seemed more interested in the rectangular bites Tim had left on her plate. "I was born in Washington. Lived here for like twenty years. I know my way around alright."

Abby offered him a small, appreciative smile. "Right."

"And you?", he followed up quickly, unable to beat the cliché.

"Louisiana, actually", Abby said.

Nolan let his eyes travel around the table, purposely settling on the man opposite him. McGee momentarily fought the urge to mention the PI that had spied on them and had probably preissued all details that they could give. "Born in Maryland", he answered instead. "But I grew up in California."

It took Tony a moment to realize that Nolan's gaze had flickered to him. "Oh, my turn?" He chuckled at the setup, choking down the carrot still wedged somewhere halfway down his throat. "Long Island, New York."

"You don't look all American", Nolan declared then, his eyes having landed on Ziva.

Ziva looked up from her plate and stared at him through narrowed eyes.

"'Cause my mommy's from Israel", Tali inserted from her position next to her mother, beating everyone else to it. The concise emphasis the five-year-old had put on the name of her homeland easily drew a grin on Ziva's face.

"But she's American, whole and complete", Tony added, leaning around his partner.

"Well, thank you, you two", Ziva remarked, alternately smiling at father and daughter and admiring their matching expressions of sweet, casual smugness.

Abby had sweepingly changed the topic thereafter, moving on to the more blatantly innocuous. Before long, right after dessert, sugar highs had kicked in vivaciously and the girls had scampered off towards the playroom, while David had relocated to a lounger by the window and was occupying himself with one of his Uncle McGee's handier video games. While dinner conversation took a gradual turn towards sports, Ziva found herself watching her son, so immersed in the game he was playing. His face was scaling up and down the emotions of deep-seated competitiveness that he had definitely inherited from both Tony and her. Much unlike his parents, however, David usually remained rather quiet - a quality that was not at all stenciled, as experience proved.

Since they allowed both kids to play video games, McGee had had a field day one Christmas choosing the right kind of equipment for them. About a year ago, then, David and Tali had been out with their Uncle Gibbs and their initial plan of an intimate tête-a-tête had been thwarted by Tony coming down with the flu. Seeing as Tony being sick usually encompassed a lot of whining on his and a lot of biting-back snide comments on Ziva's part, followed by honest appreciation on his and mindful concern on her part, they had somehow ended up on the couch and each with a controller in hand. It hadn't taken many re-starts, very loud screaming matches and too many objects flying through the living room for them to realize that they were both too competitive to ever be allowed to play the games appropriate for their pre-teen children, let alone the more mature ones Tony had eventually had McGee deliver to their doorstep.

Ziva was suddenly yanked from her thoughts by someone tugging on her sleeve. Looking down, she was met by her daughter's wide orbs that peered up at her with intent. "Yes, tateleh?", she asked.

"Mommy, we need Deed", the five-year-old stated simply.

Ziva glanced over her daughter's shoulder in time to catch Liora's nod from where the two-year-old was hovering in the doorway. Then she looked at her son, who had undoubtedly heard his sister's request, but successfully pretended not to.

Ziva turned back to Tali. "So, ask him to come with you", she urged her with slightly lifted eyebrows.

"I can't make him do stuff", Tali reasoned, shaking her head decidedly. "Only you can."

On the other end of the table Abby was unable to hold back a loud chuckle. Ziva herself had to stifle her laughter, a smile still tugging at her lips. "Tateleh, do you want your brother to play with you and Liora?"

"Yes", Tali retorted impatiently.

Ziva nodded. "Then you will have to ask him yourself."

"But- But, mommy!", she whined, drawing out Ziva's professional title fueled by all her immanent exasperation.

Tony chose that as his cue to jump in on the conversation. He leaned around his partner, eyeing his daughter dotingly. "Princess, just be at your very sweetest", he suggested.

"Yes, just pretend you want something from your dad, Tali", McGee threw in from behind Tony, grinning at his niece.

"Oh, oh, that's rich coming from you", Tony retorted, turning to face his friend. "From the guy who bought the world's biggest dollhouse to make up for it being his fault his baby girl can't have a puppy because he's allergic." He, too, couldn't resist embellishing McGee's purported allergies with air quotes.

McGee's eyes shot open, his cheeks blushing in a vague shade of red. "Abby!"

Abby shrugged, looking on innocently. "I just told Ziva."

"Ziva", McGee repeated with much the same reproachful intonation.

Ziva's eyebrows, however, merely lifted to support her knowing grimace. "You two are both hopeless when it comes to your girls", she asserted, pointing alternately at both Tony and McGee.

"There's not enough cream in the tri-state-area to balance out just how daddy-whipped you two are", Abby added with a grin.

"There's only about 120 percent truth to that", Tony declared flatly.

During all of this Nolan had faded into the background, quietly observing the display of well-rehearsed and comfortable back-and-forth between friends and family. There was no use denying that he was the odd man out this afternoon and that there was no way he would be capable of deflecting the bright smile that Liora and Tim shared across the room.

Seeing consideration for her present quandaries dwindle, Tali eventually mustered up enough determination to walk up to her big brother and stare at him long enough to gain his attention. "Can you help us, please?", she requested sweetly, adding a distinct flutter to her eyelids along with the certified DiNozzo grin.

David left his little sister dangling for a few moments, challenging her to upholding her present expression, but he eventually just jabbed a button on his game and put it aside to follow her anyway. Tali briefly indulged herself in a triumphant pose - long enough to celebrate her persuasion skills, but short enough not to annoy her brother -, before ushering a boldly cheering Liora out of the room.

* * *

><p>The door of the playroom hadn't been shut for half an hour, when Abby called their attention to a particular detail. "Do you hear that?", she asked into the round.<p>

They fell silent for a moment, even Nolan didn't dare take a breath. Ziva nodded her head in understanding. "It is very quiet", she observed.

"It's too quiet."

"Usually means apocalypse is a-on the way", Tony added.

"Who goes to look?", Abby inquired.

"They've probably already torn out a wall to build a stage", McGee suggested dryly.

Tony grinned pointedly, turning to his partner. "So, Ziva?"

Ziva couldn't help but laugh out loud at their all-over nodding and agreement. She was never entirely comfortable knowing that she was usually appointed the most resolute stance against their kids' combined creativity and mischief. It sometimes sent a shudder through her body to think that she could induce the same kind of exacting fear in her children that her father had induced in her and her siblings. That was not who she had ever wanted to be, not as a mother at least. She had lost count of just how often Tony had had to reassure her that she herself would never let that happen. It was just that between McSoftspot and Tony's own shenanigans-proneness, she was by far more capable of keeping the kids from accidentally chopping off a few limbs. And while there probably was no sight out there more terrifying than livid Abby (something they had yet to witness in full, but Liora's teenage years were sure to come), their kids and thus their responsibilities outnumbered Abby's two-to-one.

"Is it always like that?", Nolan asked tentatively when Ziva had passed him on her way to the playroom. He had started an inner debate a while ago on whether they were putting on a show on account of him or not, and he had finally decided to just outright ask.

McGee smiled slightly at the sudden question, unable to keep himself from enjoying its implications. "For the past two years, I'd say, yes", he concluded.

Tony nodded beside him. "Took us some time to find the groove, but we got it now", he added.

At that moment Ziva reappeared in the doorway, her expression unperturbed enough not to elicit immediate concern for the continuing stability of the apartment. However, Tony caught the cell phone clasped in his partner's hand.

"All the walls still intact?", McGee asked quickly.

"Yes, no cause for worry", she assured him with a smile, then turned to look at her best friend. "Abby, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure", Abby replied, getting up and following Ziva out into the hallway.

Tony didn't wait long before he turned himself towards Nolan, fixing the man with what he liked to call his _'interrogation stare'_. "So, what does your wife do?", he inquired, forcing casualness into his tone.

Nolan folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward in his chair so that his torso almost touched the table. "She's a doctor", he answered.

"That so?", Tony returned. "Tim and Abby, they count what? Six or seven degrees between them?"

McGee started to roll his eyes. "Come on, Tony-"

"No time for modesty, Tim", Tony assured him with a grin, turning back to the man on the opposite end of the table.

He was on the verge of pulling out another one of the questions he had stocked up during the past half-hour, when suddenly Abby's excited squeal was carried in from the hallway, followed by a vague thud that suggested she had just crashed into Ziva with an enthusiastic hug.

Tony just smirked. "Right."

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Tali and Liora had been working on a small play whose exact plot neither of them had exactly understood. But that hadn't been nearly important at all. It had involved David in the end, who had been appointed, as per Tali's emphatic explanation, the role of his Uncle Gibbs. That, in turn, had entailed, as per his interpretation, a whole lot of silent staring. Liora's role in the play had involved copious amounts of feathers and beads and string, all of which abstracted from Abby's deco corner, woven into her shoulder-length hair. Even though most of the ornamentation had already fallen off by the time they had erected their props in the living room, it had still provoked a strangely mangled yelp from McGee and, in turn, prompted Abby to clasp one of her skull bracelets onto her daughter's arm to make her getup<em> 'perfect'<em>, earning herself a big, proud grin from the two-year-old.

After waves of ovation and calls for encores it became obvious by the end of it all that Liora wouldn't be able to hold onto wakefulness much longer. Nolan had eventually taken that as his cue for making up an excuse and getting up from the table. He bid his goodbyes to Tony and Ziva, before Abby and McGee followed him into the foyer to see him out.

After a moment of awkward staring and him kneading the hem of his jacket, Nolan just nodded his head. "Thank you for today", he offered quietly.

"You're welcome", McGee returned curtly.

"I hope you found what you came here for", Abby added, a small smile tugging on the edges of her mouth as she slung an arm around her husband's middle.

Nolan repeated his earlier nod and reached out to open the front door. "Liora seems like an awesome kid. Got to thank you for that", he asserted, pressing his lips together. "She's lucky."

"We are the lucky ones", Abby countered softly.

"Well, keep it up", he concluded, a small smile also forming on his lips. "Goodbye."

With one last small hint at an even smaller wave, Nolan Walker turned towards the staircase and walked from view, his steps echoing in the empty hall only until McGee snapped the door shut on that particular afternoon, and chapter, in their life. Almost simultaneously they inclined their heads and Abby's and McGee's lips met in a kiss, smiling against each other.

Returning to the living room, they found most of the dishes cleared from the table, David leaning semi-tiredly against Ziva and Tali already asleep against Tony's shoulder. They, too, bid their goodbyes soon after and left Abby and McGee with a little girl that was rolled into a tight ball on the couch, sound asleep. Incidentally, only Tali ever truly managed to wear out their two-year-old.

McGee bent down and gently lifted Liora into his arms. "C'mere, angel. Let's get you to bed", he whispered into her ear, already setting out towards her room.

"Daddy", she mumbled drowsily, throwing her arms around his neck.

Abby watched them from behind McGee's back, savoring the sight of her daughter's head on her husband's shoulder and his obvious smile as she followed them upstairs.

* * *

><p>The kids were fast asleep, as was Eliana, when Tony joined Ziva in their bedroom. He found her leaning against the headboard and finishing the book she had started not too long ago. He plopped down on the bed beside her, stretching animatedly before holding her cell phone aloft before her face.<p>

"I knew you wouldn't pass up the Kodak moment", he remarked, smirking at her.

She offered him an astute smile and turned her attention to the picture gleaming approvingly from the screen. She had taken it earlier. It showed Tali kneeling on Liora's bed with the two-year-old seated on the floor before her while their little girl was knotting, weaving and braiding all sorts of colorful ornamentation into her cousin's hair.

"Let's spread the joy", he suggested, letting his fingers glide along the display and eventually stabbing McGee's name. Then he slid forward and lifted himself up enough to catch Ziva's lips in a long kiss.

When they broke apart, Ziva cocked her head a little to the side. "Is there something I should know about?", she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"No", Tony declared at once, nodding. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I did only good today."

Ziva gave a small laugh. "That deserves a reward, yes?", she purred, lifting her hand to his cheek and leaning in once again.

* * *

><p>Abby was twisting a small red feather between her fingers, comfortably leaning against her husband as they stood over Liora's bed and watched their daughter sleep peacefully, when McGee's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming message. He reached into his pocket to check; too much of an NCIS Agent not to.<p>

"Look at that." He grinned, offering his wife a look at the picture Tony had just sent.

A smile easily spread on Abby's face and with it she returned her gaze to her daughter.

"All ours."


	43. Dropping Out, Dropping In

_Second-to-last chapter before Christmas. Will post one around the 22nd or 23rd before going on a short hibernation hiatus (go, alliteration!). Enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 43 Dropping Out, Dropping In<strong>

**Sunday, April 18****th**** 2021**

Stopping her track down the hallway when a suspicious thud reached her ears, Ziva's intuitive dread was promptly assured by David's voice. The reprimand about taking better care of his things, clearly aimed at his little sister, painted a small smile on Ziva's face. She quickly left her kids to the privacy of their sibling struggles and continued on her way, almost crashing into Tony as she did so.

"Woah, hey", he called out, instinctively grabbing her shoulders. "Didn't expect you up here, ninja."

Ziva just smiled and held up her hands. He noticed the sticky remnants of whatever it was that she had started on as a part of her big lunch project directly following breakfast. Tony stepped aside to grant her access to the sink, choosing to stay in the bathroom just a little while longer. He straddled the sidewall of the tub, his eyes fixed on her back.

"Since you have arranged for Gibbs to come over today, I suppose you also have a plan on how to make your daughter understand that her brother will get a makeover of his room while she will not", Ziva said, eyeing his reflection in the mirror curiously.

Tony screwed his forehead up in discernible wrinkles. "I thought asking Gibbs to fix her a new bookcase for the ever-growing number of books and cuddly dust catchers was our angle there", he mused.

She gave the faucet a light tap and reached for a towel, drying her hands as she turned to look at him directly. "It is", she confirmed.

"So, there you go. All the plan I need", he concluded, offering her the charm of his grin. "Princess doesn't need to know that she won't get a new room as long as we're saving up for a new ninja hut."

Ziva stepped up to him, disposing of the towel on the way, and leaned against his thigh. "A little ways down the road", she added, her eyebrows lifting ever so slightly.

Tony cocked his head to the side as his hands traveled to her hips and she inclined her head for a gentle, stolen kiss. "Yellow brick road", he corrected, eliciting a laugh.

She pulled back to the ring of the doorbell. "Gibbs."

He sighed and got up. "And so the day begins."

* * *

><p>Gibbs had stepped over their threshold armed with a toolbox and Tony had quickly led his former boss upstairs. The sound of their distant bickering, interspersed only by the kids' voices and the odd clanging or thudding, served as the strangely mundane background theme to Ziva's cooking that morning. During her run earlier she had decided to make today a big lunch, for no apparent reason - maybe, in part, to make up for the many tiringly terse and quiet lunches and dinners they had suffered through in the past week. The radio was humming softly along to the monotone of the range hood. Ziva was bracing her hands on the counter, brooding over a particularly tricky part of the recipe - maybe, in part, she was doing it to keep herself occupied with what she had come to appreciate as the perfectly ordinary goodness of life.<p>

Ziva could still feel the eyes trained on her back. She could even feel her thinking. Call it instincts, but her daughter was probably the loudest silent thinker around. The little girl was just incapable of hiding anything from being brightly written all over her face. It was so brilliantly different from what Ziva had become an expert in: all the emotions and thoughts she had so painstakingly learned to shut out and keep from surfacing anywhere - where they could have been found and used as leverage against her. Tali, at this point, was barely even capable of entertaining that possibility. It was glorious, really.

"Yes?", Ziva offered eventually as she turned around to face her daughter.

Tali was shuffling around in the doorway and her head was hovering an inch above her left shoulder, once again, in much the same way as Tony's usually was.

"You don't have time to play, mommy", the five-year-old asserted with a heavy sigh, her lips setting in a firm line.

"I am afraid that is so, tateleh", Ziva replied, crouching down before her. "But I am sure whatever it is that your daddy and Uncle Gibbs are doing is much more fun anyway." At that moment an incredulous yelp by Tony that sounded a lot like _'Seriously?'_ eagerly underscored her statement.

But Tali lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Wanted to play with you", she declared simply.

Ziva tilted her head to the side, smiling at her daughter's nonchalant sweetness. "Why don't you set up in the kitchen? I will be right here and join you when I am done."

"Do you need any help?", Eliana's voice broke into Tali's reserved nod.

Ziva looked up at her mother and felt an odd rush of relief. It gripped her for only a second, but it was enough to cause substantial irritation. That was the story of her life, wasn't it? The closer she allowed Eliana to get, the more it would hurt when their cunning little plan resulted in her not coming back one day. Ziva had felt that pain once before, and it was nothing she was particularly keen on repeating. Sure, what she felt for that woman now was not the kind of adoration she had held for her as a child, but it certainly was enough to make her feel relieved when Eliana returned safely from her routine outings.

"Or is it supposed to be solitary?", Eliana went on after Ziva had failed to provide an answer, surveying the potpourri of pans and ingredients on the counter.

Ziva nodded her head. "Yes, actually."

Eliana offered her a small smile, understanding the urge.

"But mommy will try to play with me later", Tali put in, looking to her mother for confirmation.

However, between Eliana and Tali, Ziva was hit with an idea that she had been pondering for a while. _'A while'_ might actually have been too extensive a span of time; but she had thought about it before.

"Actually, tateleh", Ziva suggested, turning back to her daughter, "How would you like to show your grandmother your treasure box?"

Tali's brown eyes lit up. "Right now?"

"Yes", Ziva confirmed, chuckling at her daughter's excitement.

"Can I get it?"

Ziva nodded affirmatively. Tali scampered off and Ziva got up from the floor only to find Eliana's questioning gaze. "You will see", she assured her.

Tali soon returned with the box safely cradled in her arms and Ziva realized just how heavy it had gotten over the years, with the memories they had assembled inside. Eliana had still to fully comprehend the meaning of the wooden container being placed in front of her on the coffee table. But it didn't take too long to hit her: This was, at least in some part, what she had hoped for weeks ago. It seemed strange now, to have it fulfilled. It was good; and that was how she knew it wouldn't last.

Ziva dragged the lounger over for Tali since the little girl insisted on sitting across from her grandmother while she launched into her stories. The items at the top of the box were in great part the things David and she had put in there, the treasures they had found along their way. Tali knew a story and an explanation to all of them. Ziva meanwhile resumed her cooking endeavor, but her concentration never quite made it back to the kitchen; not entirely, at least. Half of her attention was stranded in the living room and that was also how she knew when to rejoin them.

She stepped through the door just as Eliana reached for the hospital bracelets with her and the kids' name on them. They were among Ziva's favorite items and thus resided quite at the top. Also, over the years she had learned that your child's first-ever portrait was basically the busiest picture ever; especially when Tony was the father. Eliana held them almost reverently in her hands.

"David was a home birth, Tali a C-section", Ziva inserted as she came over. She took a seat on the lounger and pulled Tali into her lap, kissing the back of her little girl's head.

"They have certainly grown", Eliana stated randomly, but Ziva knew her words weren't random at all. They were pretty much the single-most significant words in a parent's life.

Eliana didn't lift her gaze from the pictures either; her eyes fixed on the small, small human beings cradled in her daughter's arms, Tony's face or hand always nearby. Ziva looked younger in them, obviously; young and glowing and brilliant, despite the exhaustion so evident in her eyes. That, she had missed. Those momentous seconds when a life changed and _'the life of'_ suddenly turned into _'the life for'_.

Eventually, however, it was Tali who broke into Eliana's thoughts with recounting the story of her own first few hours based solely on the videos she had seen and the many photos that Abby and Palmer had taken in a competitive bid to furnish the more comprehensive baby album. Soon Eliana had put the pictures aside and resumed her quest with tiny sartorial memories, favorite toys, Mother's Day poems and Father's Day presents and, suddenly, a pair of movie tickets.

"What are these?", she asked her granddaughter, seeing as Ziva had already returned to the kitchen.

"Daddy kept our first movie tickets ever", Tali explained easily, a smile running across her face. "Deed slept through his first movie."

Eliana chuckled, looking back at the small rectangular pieces of paper that really only held meaning in juxtaposition with Tony. "And you, Tali?"

"I was awake the _whole_ time", the little girl declared proudly, building herself up on her heels.

"And giggling the whole time", Tony put in, matching her tone, as he appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"It was a com- comedy, daddy", Tali asserted, tilting her head back and rolling her eyes at her father when he came to stand next to her.

Tony couldn't help but laugh. "Your Uncle Gibbs is requesting your opinion upstairs, princess", he said, tapping her nose.

A grin spread on her face and she scrambled off the chair. "Be right back", she called over her shoulder.

"I will be waiting", Eliana replied and, for now, put aside two similarly folded pieces of paper that she had just uncovered.

Tony was fast by her side, however, staring at them. Intrigued by his awestruck expression, she held them out to him. "What are they?", she inquired.

Tony, instead of answering, just smiled. "Ziva?", he called into the kitchen.

Having not expected her partner's voice, Ziva was quick to appear in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Did you put them in there?", he asked, his grin directed more at the two small paper cubes cupped in his hand than at her.

"What are you-", she started, stepping up to him and following his line of vision. "Oh."

"Did you?"

"No", she drew out in a long breath, her smile keenly mirroring his. "I do not think I did."

Eliana was looking up at them both, confusion still written all over her face, while each of them reached for one piece and proceeded to open it.

"Our SAPs", Tony offered, but his words did not amount to any trace of comprehension on Eliana's face.

"Self-appreciation posts", Ziva clarified, her eyes smiling brightly as they danced over the words. Eliana nodded, but still didn't quite understand.

"I made a bucket list once", Tony explained, meeting Ziva in a knowing glance. "A bucket list is a list of things you want to do before you kick the bucket."

Eliana's eyebrows lifted. "How quixotic."

"Or morbid", Ziva suggested, pressing her lips into a line. "In my opinion."

Tony chuckled. "In her opinion, yes. Ziva deleted it nine items in."

"We had just had a conversation about making moments count", Ziva defended. "And that list was going in the opposite direction."

"We had and it was", Tony agreed. By now, their eyes were locked and Eliana was left to observe. "But you had a list of your own."

"My _'wills'_", Ziva said flatly. "Which I wrote when I was ten years old."

Tony's gaze briefly flashed to Eliana. As expected, he found the chord that the image of her ten-year-old daughter writing out a list of intimate wishes had struck, and the somewhat painful look it had educed. "A list of things she wanted to be or do in her life", he elaborated.

"I buried it."

"But you remembered each wish", he added.

"I did."

"What were they?", Eliana asked softly, her gaze fixed on her daughter.

A wistful smile flickered across Ziva's face, but she shook her head at the mere thought. "That is not important", she said. "Most of them did not come true."

"One-point-five of them did", Tony countered and his eyebrows rose in a proud, and knowing grimace. Ziva's mouth gaped as her head tilted to the side, utterly surprised that he still remembered. Her expression, so _her_, triggered the grin that ran across his face.

"Which ones?", Eliana inquired.

"You came to America", Tony said, his gaze locking once more with Ziva's.

She allowed herself to take a deep breath. "I did even more than that."

Tony's eyes narrowed, accompanied by a slow, slow nod. "You are quintessential America now."

"What else?", Eliana solicited.

"I have a boy and a girl", Ziva relayed quietly, the thought dropping an almost painful clot in her throat.

She still remembered herself, the little girl in the Tel Aviv apartment putting a determined, cheerful, circular full-stop behind that sentence. Yes, that girl had been cheerful enough about that wish, a part of her willing it to come true. Thereupon, while that part of her had slowly emaciated, the more practical, rational part of her had stopped even dreaming about that wish. She had forced it so far to the back of her mind that she had barely ever hurt herself thinking about it. Now, though, she had them both: her little boy and her little girl.

"Anyway, one night we decided to make our SAPs", Tony concluded their lovingly long and winding explanation. "A list of five things we had accomplished through the years. But we wrote them for each other, to look at, for whenever the urge settled in to write _'wills'_ or bucket lists or things of similar melancholic disposition."

They had been sitting on his bed in his old apartment. He could see her still, her bulging stomach, as she sat with her legs tucked beneath her, right across from him. Her hair wild from sleep. That smile on her face. It had been a few months into her pregnancy with David. She had even gone on a hunt for pens and paper through his sparsely stationary-equipped cabinets, barefooted and determined.

Tony looked down at the piece of paper in his hand, acknowledging the span of almost ten years that separated him from his memory. "Finally bought the piano", he read the first sentence out loud. "That's still in storage, isn't it?"

"We will find a place for it someday", Ziva assured him, reminding him of their earlier conversation in the bathroom. She, too, turned her attention to the list in her hand now. "Created a dish to which I can serve both hummus and apple pie."

"Watched _'Sound of Music'_ and liked it", Tony read, grimacing. "I only agreed to that because you were sitting next to me the whole time watching my reaction like a manic hawk with intimacy issues."

Her mouth knowingly split into a cunning smirk on the one and a gentle smile on the other side. "Learned how to use emoticons", Ziva chuckled through the next point on her list.

"That came about ten times harder to you than any other language you speak", Tony quipped, remembering another lazy day spent on his bed. However, his eyes glazed over quickly thereafter, reading the next bit. "Realized that I am worth the effort."

Ziva's free hand intuitively moved to his chest. Her smile softened almost unnoticeably, but he noticed anyway. "I remember when I suggested that", she hummed.

"First time David kicked for me to feel it", Tony said simply and Ziva nodded.

Her eyes returned to the list, her mouth gaping for a moment. "Bared all of my scars." It was bittersweet, she knew, but Tony smiled at her encouragingly.

"Let someone in all the way", he went on, squeezing the hand that still rested on his chest.

She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly roaming the room they were standing in. "Made a home for myself", she read.

Tony nodded. "Made a family."

"Made a family."

* * *

><p>Their subsequent kiss, and Eliana's discreet silence, was only broken by Gibbs coming down the stairs a moment later and loudly declaring the first part of his remodeling mission accomplished - in much fewer words. Unconsciously, both Tony and Ziva slipped their respective SPAs into their pockets as he went upstairs to check on the kids and she followed Gibbs into the foyer.<p>

"Are you sure you do not want to stay for lunch?", Ziva asked at once, watching him reach for his coat. "We have more than enough."

Gibbs just offered her a lopsided smile and leaned forward to press a kiss against her temple. He knew, after all, what she was thinking. "I'm good, Ziver", he declined. "Besides, got a project to finish. Big day."

"Thank you, Gibbs", she said softly, holding the door open for him, and with a last smile he left.

When she returned to the living room, Eliana was still sitting in the same spot on the couch. Ziva came up behind her and peeked over her shoulder. Eliana was holding the first solo picture of David and Tali together as a sibling pair: the three-year-old version of her little boy carefully and tightly holding on to the bundle that was his newborn sister. What was invisible beyond the edges was their joint and quiet fretting over his cautious efforts not to drop her.

"You know", Eliana started, addressing the presence she could feel behind her, "You can see a hint of Ari in David's smiles."

"You think?", Ziva countered skeptically.

"Yes, I- Wait, let me show you."

Ziva watched, a little stunned by the obvious streak of determination, as Eliana hurried up the stairs. She took a seat on the couch and picked up the photograph of her children once more, eyeing it closely. When Eliana came back downstairs, she was clasping the album entitled _'Ari'_.

"I saw this in here", she explained absently, skimming through the pages as she returned to her previous spot.

"Have you been looking through them?", Ziva asked, her eyes alternating between the flashes of pictures showing her late brother, and her mother's resolute gaze.

Eliana nodded slowly. "Was I not supposed to? They were on the shelf-"

"No, of course", Ziva promptly reassured her, releasing a slow breath. "They are yours, after all."

"Actually, they were meant to be yours and your siblings'", Eliana held, stopping her search at once and looking at her daughter.

Ziva's eyes narrowed. "So… They are all mine now."

Choosing not to reply, Eliana placed the album in Ziva's lap and indicated the picture gaping up at her now. It was a black-and-white photograph of thirteen-year-old Ziva and fifteen-year-old Ari. Ziva hadn't looked through the _'Ari'_ album yet. In a way, it was even more painful to look through than Tali's.

"You see his smile? David's", Eliana asserted.

Ziva didn't see it, though. She had always associated David's smile with Tony's: the endearing, askew smile that drew her in every time. But she didn't find it in her heart to voice her thoughts. There was more of her mother invested in this suggestion than the likeness of expressions.

Eliana inclined her head, taking a closer look. "This was taken after I-"

"Yes. In Haifa. Nettie took it", Ziva clarified curtly. "I actually have no idea how it came to be in here." Maybe it was Nettie's doing, after all.

Eliana smiled and Ziva could almost detect some telling traces of moisture at the corner of her mother's eye. "You look so happy", she whispered, drawing a fingertip over the crumbled surface.

"I think it was supposed to be only a picture of me, but he jumped up beside me at the last second", Ziva remembered, tearing her eyes away. "We _were_ happy. Even when it was hard. On Ari especially-"

"On you both."

Ziva nodded. "But sometimes we were just children, yes? And in Haifa, we were, more than we were anywhere else."

"He was always so considerate. So strong. So proud to be a big brother", Eliana recalled, tears now clearly brimming in her eyes. There was no chance to ever make right what she had allowed to be done to her stepson. "But he was the most fragile out of the three of you."

Ziva choked down the lump in her throat. "You think?"

"Tali, Tali had the gift of carrying her heart inside out, she had different strength. And you, Ziva, you are stronger than any of us." Eliana gave a small, humorless laugh. "But Ari… He was-"

"Suffocated", Ziva finished for her. "By our father and by duty and by his heritage."

"Yes."

"But he was also my rock. He was there, through everything", Ziva added quietly, very quietly. "I leaned on him so heavily sometimes. I will never know how he did not break… And then he did."

Eliana could have gone on. Her heart was aching for a clarity past, for details and replenishing the cracks of her stepson's wayward story. But she couldn't bring herself to, seeing the look in Ziva's eyes. Her daughter had endured much, far too much, she knew now. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be a mother in this time, any kind of mother, but she had contributed to that hurt before, and for a long time, and as a mother she simply refused to keep doing that.

So, instead, Eliana allowed a sincere chuckle to free itself from her chest. "He would have adored your children", she suggested.

Ziva couldn't hold back her amusement at the thought either. "Oh, yes. And he would have taught them all the tricks and the mischief that he taught Tali and me", she said. "I am not so sure it would have been safe to have him around."

Eliana nodded, her smile briefly slipping. "He found his peace, you think?"

"I ask for it every day", Ziva concluded quietly.

That issue was a complicated one. He divided her a lot from her family, Ari did. He had been responsible for Kate's death, taking one of NCIS' own, taking family. Her family had taken one of them. Killing the only family she had known back then had simultaneously driven her into the arms of the family she now had. It was unfathomable, really.

She could tell herself again and again that it hadn't been Ari who she had killed, not her brother, not the one who had held her crying in his arms, not the one who had teased her for having to wear a dress. In the end, though, she had killed her own brother. It was almost unbearably simple. In the end, she had killed the man who had betrayed her more than her parents could have ever betrayed her with their leaving and pretending not to care. In the end, she had killed the man he had never wanted and always fought not to become. She had run away from it all back then, and run right towards her family, right towards here and now. Then hell had happened. And now this was it.

No, actually, _'complicated'_ was a clowny cake in comparison.

Quite suddenly, and not at all unexpectedly, they could hear the kids, _her_ boy and girl, barreling down the stairs, with Tony's heavy tread leisurely tagging along. Soon the living room was echoing with questions regarding lunch and excited declarations regarding the future state of their respective rooms. Before long, Ziva had snapped the album in her lap shut, making sure the pictures it held were secure. She placed it on the table and got up.

"Hey, that's mine", David exclaimed, his eyes landing on the box and fishing an evidence bag from it that held a small tooth.

Ziva smiled, sharing a look with Tony.

"They get themselves into trouble very well on their own as it is anyway", Ziva quipped, allowing herself to meet her mother's gaze in a smile.

_***…the ides of time…***_

_Tony cast a quick glance at his son as he came to a halt in front of their apartment door and tried to disentangle his keys from the loose threads coating the inside of his pocket. With the inward shrug and suave nonchalance of a father-of-two Tony acknowledged the blood stain on his dress shirt. His jacket he had discarded a while ago and it was now dangling from the strap of his backpack, which he had, along with David's bag, loosely slung over his arm while holding his son against his hip with the other. The little boy had buried his head in the crook of Tony's neck. Tony could feel his small ragged breaths sweep across the hair at the back of his neck._

_As soon as he had freed his key he slipped it into the lock and, with little grace, stumbled into the foyer. He had barely closed the door behind them, when the unmistakable sound of a screaming four-month-old crashed in on them with no mercy for the day both father and son had suffered through. David carried the obvious marks of the harsh ending to his day at preschool, while Gibbs' barely functional muteness, once again and among other things, had driven Tony to chewing the insides of his cheeks bloody at least three times today. He couldn't keep a sigh from slipping past his lips. He wholeheartedly sympathized with David's groan and his little hands shooting up to cover his ears. _

_Tony simply dropped everything from his arms except his son somewhere along his trip across the living room, Tali's cries vociferously intensifying with every step he took on the stairs. At one point, he feared, David could have summersault head-first over his shoulder, so eagerly did the little boy try to get further and further away from his little sister's agitated wails as they kept approaching the source._

_Midway down the hallway Tony came face to face with Ziva, whose ninja senses must have picked up on his attempts at a stealthy entrance. She was cradling their daughter against her chest and rocking her from side to side in what was turning out to be a futile effort to pacify the little girl's fit. Tony was so caught up in Ziva's despondent expression that it took him a few moments to realize that his daughter was not wearing a diaper and that her shirt was two-thirds covered in ugly, pastel-colored vomit._

_Tony's questioning look, however, was only met by Ziva's shrug and a deep breath, issued while she shifted Tali to her other shoulder._

"_We have had a trying day", Ziva declared simply._

_A curt, sardonic laugh that soundly rang with notes of _'Tell me bout it' _ripped free from somewhere at the back of Tony's throat. Before he could actually say something, however, David dared to look up from the safety of his father's embrace and his eyes promptly landed on his mother._

"_Mommy", the three-year-old croaked and Ziva's heart went out to the audible pain in his small voice. _

_The little boy threw his arms out for her and Ziva was only momentarily distracted by the plaintive look in his eyes before she noticed his chapped lip and the haphazardly treated gash on his forehead. Her mouth fell open in shock._

"_C'mon, hand her over", Tony offered, waving his free arm at his partner. Tali had yet to quit her desperate yelping._

_Diligently Ziva placed their crying daughter into Tony's arms and, in turn, accepted their son into hers. David wrapped himself tightly around Ziva's middle and neck. As soon as his head dropped onto her shoulder, she could feel the moisture of tears spreading on her shirt. So, there they were: Tony bouncing an unabatedly wailing Tali in his arms and Ziva tightly holding on to David, his little chest heaving with fresh tears._

"_I believe you had a good reason not to mention that he was hurt, yes?", Ziva asked tersely, drawing small, soothing circles on her son's back._

"_Would it have made any difference?", Tony retorted, his eyebrows lifting._

_Ziva sighed again, realizing she had sighed quite a lot today. She gently pried her son away from her shoulder so she could get a better look at his face. _

_David's fist flew up to his bloodshot eye, trying to rub away the sting. "Hurts, mommy", he whimpered, sniffling._

_Ziva moved to kiss away the teary trails that ran down his cheek. "I know it does, neshomeleh."_

"_The nurse was trying to patch him up, but he was throwing a fit-"_

"_He is scared of nurses and doctors, Tony", Ziva cut in, pressing a kiss to David's forehead and offering him a sympathetic smile._

_After having spent so much time in waiting rooms and on examination tables due to the routine of check-ups he had had to endure, David wasn't particularly fond of anything clad in white with a stethoscope slung around their necks. The monthly check-ups had long turned into half-yearly briefs, but the three-year-old's general disposition hadn't changed much._

"_I know. That's what I told them", Tony asserted over Tali's unremitting puffs of voiceless breath. "He begged me to go home and let mommy make him better, so that's what we did."_

_David nodded his head against his mother's shoulder as Tony elicited the smallest of brave smiles from his son when ruffling his hair._

"_Mommy is going to take care of you now, tateleh", Ziva promised her son, squeezing his hand reassuringly. Then her eyes flickered to her daughter. Tali was still not nearly calm and the stench of vomit had by now engulfed them whole._

"_I'll run a bath for me and the little princess", Tony said, giving Ziva a small smile. "Bubbles usually do the trick, don't they?"_

_The edges of Ziva's mouth curled upwards in a faint, but distinct smile and she followed her partner to the bathroom. She retrieved a few supplies from the first aid kit and then left Tony to continue his story of whatever-it-was, barreled with movie references, as he eventually slid into the bubble-filled tub with his daughter safely cradled in his arms._

_Ziva meanwhile retreated to their bedroom with David. She took a seat on the edge of the bed with the little boy curled to a ball in her lap. The three-year-old made no move to let go of her anytime soon, only burrowing deeper into her embrace, and she just let him take all the comfort that he needed, humming softly. By now, too, Tali's cries had subsided. Tony's low voice, amplified by its echo inside the small bathroom, prevailed as the only discernible sound in their apartment, interspersed only by splashes of water that so clearly originated with their daughter._

"_Will you let mommy take a look at you now, my love?", Ziva coaxed sweetly after a long time of just listening to and falling in with her son's breathing. _

_She inclined her head and offered David a reassuring smile when he rolled his blotchy eyes up at her. He slowly nodded his head._

_Ziva pressed a kiss to his hair and moved him to sit beside her. With gentle, experienced hands she brushed a few strands away and inspected the gash running a few inches along the side of his forehead. It wasn't deep and hardly warranted too much concern, but, being who she was, she soaked some gauze with disinfectant to clean out the wound anyway. One of her hands steadying his head, she instructed David to grab her arm and squeeze it tightly in case it hurt too much. While her free hand took a few quick swipes at the caked-on blood, she could feel David dig his fingers into her lower arm. Despite knowing that it couldn't have stung just that badly, she launched into a barrage of sweet, Hebrew nothingness until she had finally put a small band-aid over the cut and kissed it finished. _

"_Does your head still hurt, tateleh?", she asked while examining the chap on his lip and shaking her head, mostly inwardly, at the tooth missing behind it._

_David shook his head, but, deeming his checkup over, quickly crawled back into Ziva's lap and closed his eyes against her chest._

"_We have all had quite an eventful day, my love, haven't we?", she whispered, nuzzling the top of his head with her cheek._

"_Uh-huh", he mumbled in agreement._

_Ziva nodded and got up so she could throw back the comforter and the blanket on Tony's side of the bed before easing her son onto the mattress. Seeing as he refused to let go of her shirt just yet, Ziva climbed right in beside him and made sure to cover him up. She started to draw her fingertips through his hair, from his hairline to the base of his neck, until she could feel the little hand clasping her shirt go slack and his breathing become deep and rhythmical. It didn't take long, exhaustion overcoming him. She dropped a kiss on his temple and cautiously slipped from the mattress and out of the room, making a beeline for the bathroom._

_Tony and Tali had barely altered their position. Tony's back was still aligned to the porcelain wall with their little girl sprawled out on his chest, her wide brown orbs fixed on the tireless movement of his lips. Ziva felt a smile coming on at the display, a gush of love emanating into every vein of her body. Today hadn't been one of the easy ones, but going out the other end of the day this way just made her happy, in that blissful way she had never believed possible._

_Since they had Tali's mane cut a few weeks ago, father and daughter sported a merrily similar hairstyle, and its strands stuck to their heads, their hair damp from the steam gathering in the room. One of Tali's hands was buried in Tony's chest hair, but he didn't seem to mind. The other one was resting on his clavicle, but Ziva soon cupped the tiny fist in her hand as she crouched down next to them. She leaned over the rim of the tub, tracing the watery surface with her fingertips. Tony's voice trailed off as he let his attention get sidetracked by the sweet, gummy smile his daughter offered her mother. Ziva murmured something in Hebrew, of which he only caught the words for _'you'_, _'my'_ and_ 'beautiful'_. Tali, as though charmingly aware of her mother's words, let out a low hum and twisted herself around so she could drop her head dramatically onto the arm that was still draped over her father's chest, her eyes locked with her mother's and smiling all the while._

"_So, we had a little accident?", Tony asked quietly, attaching only a faint question mark to his sentence. Vomit wasn't something utterly out-of-the-ordinary for them after all._

_Ziva cocked her head to the side and turned her eyes briefly away from her daughter. He recognized the question in them: _'Do you really want to know?'_ He nodded decidedly, absently twisting a flick of Tali's hair around his finger._

_Ziva sighed, softly caressing the back of the little girl's hand with her thumb, her eyes never leaving her daughter's. "We started out on a good note, didn't we, tateleh?"_

_And she told him about how easy-going Tali had been all morning, which wasn't usually the case, and she made him smile gushing about their little girl's enchantment with the book about the colorful trees and flowers that Abby had brought over the other day. His face started to contort in vicarious pain, however, by the time Ziva came to the part about Tali getting fussy and restless for no apparent reason, and how she had barely gotten her to sleep. He winced when she got to her Aunt Nettie's phone call that had woken the baby up and quietly applauded her feat of managing to get Tali back to sleep with the phone still pressed to her ear because, they both knew, when Nettie called about the baby, you either put in the long-distance effort or the older woman would keep calling until you did. Tony was on the verge of offering a _'You aced worse'_, when Ziva finally arrived at almost burning lunch because of it and how she had, in the end, really burned lunch when their elderly next-door neighbor - a sweet, but annoyingly tenacious woman - had been impossible to get rid of._

"_She the reason you missed my call?", Tony deduced, putting all the sympathy he could muster into the look he gave her._

_Ziva nodded. "And then your call woke her up again and between getting Mrs. Travis to leave, saving our kitchen and calling you back, I did not get to Tali in time." _

_Tony inwardly added the segment about finding their daughter covered in vomit and wanting to toss her fetid sheets into their conveniently and already burning kitchen._

"_You deserve a meritorious award just for the last four hours", he quipped, meaning every word, as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the edge of her mouth._

_Ziva gave a small laugh. "I think I might have promised Mrs. Travis dinner next week."_

_Tony nodded and their eyes simultaneously wandered towards their daughter. Tali was soundly smacking her lips._

"_I suppose you didn't manage to slip her lunch in there somewhere?", Tony remarked._

"_No", Ziva replied plainly and got up to fetch a towel from the cupboard. Her mother's disappearance was instantly met by Tali's whimpers, but Ziva soon returned to her spot by the tub. "I am right here, tateleh", she cooed and bent down to lift the little girl into her arms, skillfully wrapping her into a towel._

_She and Tony shared a chuckle when Tali started to root around Ziva's chest while she was still being dried off. Ziva shot him a knowing, possibly a tad accusing, glance. After all, their daughter's appetite was most likely originating in a gourmand combination of DiNozzo genes. He watched mother and daughter set out for the hallway before he climbed out of the tub himself._

_When he rejoined them fifteen minutes later, their little girl was dry, comfily dressed and happily quenching her hunger in Ziva's arms. He leaned against the doorframe and just peered into Tali's room, the sound of his daughter's sucking and the creaking of the rocking chair prominently underscoring the moment. Ziva was so focused on her daughter that she only noticed Tony, now clad in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, when he opened his mouth to speak._

"_I'm voting pizza tonight", he suggested, eliciting her nod. "And I'll get right on cleaning the kitchen."_

_A small, sheepish smile sprang to Ziva's lips. "It is a mess."_

"_I'm sure we've had crime scenes that were worse", he quipped. "What's this?"_

_She lifted her eyes from her daughter's mesmerizing stare and found him holding a box out in midair: the family heirloom Ducky had given them upon David's birth. He must have found it sitting on her nightstand._

_Ziva shook her head vaguely. "I thought I would start on my project, before...", she trailed off into a shrug._

_He connected her words to a conversation they had had not too long ago. She had told him about wanting to put in one designated place all the kids' memorabilia that were, for now, just randomly scattered all over the apartment. She wanted to put their memories in order. _

"_He knocked out his tooth falling from a tree on the playground", Tony explained, finally divulging the details to their son's missing tooth._

"_He did what?", Ziva yelped, concern creeping into her features. "How did he even get up there?"_

_Tony shrugged. "Ninja genes? Bored Jimmy teaching him crazy stuff? Who knows."_

_At that, he produced an evidence bag from behind his back and held it out to her. Ziva could discern the tiny white stub that had once contributed to her son's toothy grin, and the small specks of blood coating its tip. _

_She couldn't help but shake her head. "We will have to talk to him about this."_

"_I think he's learned his lesson", Tony assured her, recalling the exhausted lump form of his son sleeping in the other room. He slipped the evidence bag into the box and paddled over to her. "Look at that."_

_Ziva followed his directive nod and found their daughter's eyes closed, her milky lips gaping adorably. The smile crept onto her face like a happy reflex. _

"_You would never know", he whispered, kneeling down before them and running the back of his finger over the side of Tali's little head. "Now she looks like a perfect angel."_

"_She always is a perfect angel", Ziva countered softly. "Not being all perfect just makes her so."_

_He almost wanted to agree with her, right there, but the look in her eyes as she gazed down at their daughter was too much for words. Instead, he allowed the silence of the apartment to linger for a moment._

"_They are both asleep", she realized and her eyes shot up at him as if that realization really had only just hit her._

"_In that case", Tony said, offering her a grin, "If you'd like, we could start on your project together."_

"_Yes, I would like that very much."_

**_*...the ides of time...*_**


	44. Swerving

_**A/N: **We are concluding 2013 with this chapter - going on hiatus as of the last word. But I will be back with an **update early 2014**, and finish up the last four chapters quickly after that. Merry Christmas to all, happy holidays and make it safely to 2014! - Coginom_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 44 Swerving<strong>

**Monday, April 19****th**** 2021**

Just as he was digging his teeth into a piece of toast, a smile matching the crunch, Tony's cell phone buzzed to the rhythm of a new message beside him. Ziva was holding out a glass of orange juice to Tali, who was particularly loath to wake up that morning, and glanced up in time to watch her partner's features darken noticeably.

"We have a new case", Ziva deduced, planting the glass back on the table with a loud _clonk_.

Tony nodded, his fingers swiping over the display of his phone. He removed the half-eaten toast from his mouth and eyed her ruefully over the table. "We have a big new case."

"So much for getting off early early", Ziva declared as she leaned back in her chair.

Sarah was on vacation in Mexico with her boyfriend until the end of next week and they knew that Gibbs was planning on visiting LJ Moore that afternoon at a retirement home halfway across the state. They didn't want to ask him to overturn his plans on their account; also knowing that he would, if they asked, in a heartbeat. Ducky still always was a possibility, but a last resort. He certainly was one of the kids' favorite people in the world, but more in the playmate-storyteller sense than a full afternoon of after-school routine. All things considered, they had hoped for a slow day and Ziva making it out of the office in time to pick up both Tali and David.

"What are our options again?", Tony inquired, recalling the previous night's conversation.

Ziva frowned. "We do not have many."

"You can still go home early", Tony insisted with a slight shrug. "Tim and I will manage."

"I can watch them", Eliana offered.

Their heads whipped around to her in unison. They hadn't even considered that possibility - for a number of reasons, but none of those was warranted enough to elicit an outright _'no'_ from either one of them at that moment. Their lack of reaction, in turn, encouraged Eliana to go on.

"It will not be for long and they have stayed with me before", she reasoned.

"Not both of them at the same time", Ziva reminded her at once, her eyes flickering to Tony. "And not premeditated."

Tony's expression said it all, though. "Lunch break pick-ups, and you'll be home by five, six-ish."

The slow sigh that Ziva released was more visible than it was audible. Still frowning, she turned her attention to her son. David was chewing particularly slowly, every bit an indicator that he had followed and soaked up all that had been said thus far.

"What do you think of Eliana watching you today?", she asked, her eyebrows lifting slightly.

David's eyes flittered to his grandmother, who tried very hard to keep a blank face, and then over to his dad, who sported much the same questioning look as his mom. "It's okay, I guess", he replied eventually, instantly checking for his parents' reaction. They both nodded their heads.

"Tali, princess?", Tony asked then, turning to his daughter.

The little girl offered them a lopsided shrug. "If Deed's okay, then I'm 'kay."

Tony smiled. "Then that's settled."

"You will call?", Ziva demanded promptly, her eyes trained firmly on her mother.

Eliana's smile, however, didn't falter. "As often as you want me to", she assured her daughter.

Ziva pressed her lips into a thin line, the fingers she had placed onto the table curling slightly back against her palm. In the end, however, she nodded her head.

* * *

><p>They had gone to the Navy Yard in separate cars in order to maximize chances their attempts at picking up each kid from school on time wouldn't be thwarted by practicalities. But Tony could see the anxious look in Ziva's brown eyes shine at him from miles away when he approached her in front of their building.<p>

"They will be fine", he said with a smile, coming to a halt beside her.

"You tell me that again when we come home today", she maintained tersely, throwing her head back.

"Ziva", he said softly, brushing his fingertips through her hair right above her temple. She had only loosely pulled a few of her long strands back into a clip, and he had always preferred her loose hairstyles to the sterner ones.

Her eyes narrowed. "You will not appease me by being sweet, Tony", she held.

"You'll be worried for the both of us the rest of the day, I know", he returned, his arm falling back to his side. "So, I've decided to be very sweet today."

"This is the point where I am supposed to say that you are always sweet, yes?", she retorted, recommencing their daily commute to the office.

"After all those years, Ziva", he hummed, smiling at her throughout the security check, "I know you're thinking it even if you're not saying it."

Stepping onto the elevator, standing side by side, Ziva merely allowed her eyes to wander to her left, to Tony, and the doors slipped shut on her smirk.

* * *

><p>Their arrangement eventually turned out to be the only feasible one, too, as their case somehow connected to a Navy Base in the Middle East and Ziva's translation skills were needed on deck. There was no way she could have gotten out of the office on time, or even earlier than that. What was even more, Tony had barely laid eyes on his partner ever since they had returned to the office after processing the crime scene.<p>

Today was just turning into one of those days: no lunch dates, no vending machine stop-overs, no stolen minute in the copy room and barely a smile over the top of their computer screens. Today was just turning into one of those. He knew they were lucky, as much as it was hard, to be where they were; to be working together as partners in the field and in life, and to actually _want_ to work together. When one was surrounded as they were by death, by untimely endings and the gruesome potential of human-on-human, he never ceased to underestimate the reassuring comfort of working among trust and friendship; and, more than that, the comfort of the smiles and frowns that only she could give him.

Tony's head was throbbing with the details of their case and the intel he had just received in MTAC when he stepped over the threshold of _Labby Land_. He swiftly tugged his phone from his pocket and checked the clock, not once slowing his stride, so that he almost crashed into Abby halfway in. He stopped himself just in time to leave a few inches between them.

Tony's eyebrows shot up. Abby was peering at him through narrowed eyes, her gaze slowly running up and down his 6'2'' frame and a smile persistent on her lips.

"What are you doing, Abs?", he asked, his tone divulging the urgency that came with the job.

Her smile widened to a grin. "Imagining you in a tux", she declared nonchalantly.

"I'm not wearing a tux", he returned, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"But the two of you are practically getting married", she held vehemently.

"No, we are actually not practically getting married", he countered, stepping around her and over to her desk. "I need the results of-"

"You're not still angry that Ziva turned down your proposal ten years ago, are you?", she cut in instead, shoving herself between his face and her computers and back into his field of vision.

"I can't still be angry", Tony insisted plainly and cocked his head a little to the side, "Because I wasn't angry in the first place."

"Disappointed?"

"Abby-"

"Come on, Tony", Abby solicited, her smile softening visibly.

Tony gave a small sigh, but the edges of his mouth turned upwards nonetheless. "She never said no, Abby", he said. "If I asked her again, she would say yes. I just never asked her again."

"Why?"

"Because we're more than married", he replied easily and underscored the simplicity of his statement with a shrug.

Abby couldn't hold back a small laugh. "There's that caramel filling again."

"No, Abby, I'm serious", Tony held, his eyes seemingly unblinking.

Abby fell silent. There was this thing about Tony when he stripped himself of the mask and the exterior and the jokes. It was as though the aura around him changed, and you just knew that you were looking at and listening to a different, truer version of the man you thought you knew. Even when the shift was less significant, because he was starting out from his boss-face, you just knew. Abby knew.

"When David was born, I was scared as hell. I was scared of becoming a screw-up as a father and as a man. I was scared", Tony explained. "Popping the question back then, that was scared Tony talking."

"Everyone's scared like that", Abby offered, smiling good-naturedly.

Tony nodded slowly. "Yes, but the amazing thing about Ziva is how she's making me not scared about things, even when I screw up. The fact that she trusts me without needing any guarantee, that's kind of beyond marriage for us. We could both just go, but we don't. And even if we did go, we'd come back."

Abby remained unmoving for a moment, even her eyelashes seemed frozen halfway. She waited for more to come, but Tony just set his lips into a line and looked at her through smiling eyes.

"Tell me that's what you're gonna say on Friday", she pressed out as she balled her hands into fists in front of her face.

Tony gave her a knowing laugh and, instead, yanked his wallet out of his back pocket. He took out a battered piece of paper and handed it to her. "Here."

Abby opened it with reverent fingers and skimmed over the words written on it. Without a sound, she folded it back up and returned it to him. "Yep, not putting on Mascara", she asserted curtly.

Tony chuckled and put everything back in its place before pointing at the computer screen. "The case?", he inquired.

Abby nodded and followed his request, opening a few of the tabs that held some of the results of her recent tests. Stopping midway, however, she turned her head to face him again. "You wrote that years ago, didn't you?", she asked softly, a knowing smile on her face.

Tony nodded. "I tried to rewrite it, but nothing came out just as right", he declared, his mouth briefly putting on a smile. "And now I really need those results."

Abby grinned. "Your command, boss."

* * *

><p>Ziva watched McGee's fingers leap skillfully around on his keyboard as he built up screens and tabs and tags to a taxing flurry on his computer. She was leaning onto his desk, having just sent over the results of her retracing the victim's steps over the past week leading up to his murder. She was waiting for McGee to cross-reference them with the tracking details of two of the victim's old high school friends, who were not only both out on parole, but also their prime suspects as of an hour ago.<p>

Ziva peeked at the time display. She had an MTAC conference scheduled in two and a half hours and Tali needed to be picked up in a little over an hour. Ziva really hoped the next few minutes would yield a lead that would pull them out into the field so she could pick up her daughter en route. Then again, while she professionally didn't want to consider the off chance that all their work would come to nothing, on a parental and practical level she would have probably even accepted that, since she would then still get to pick up her daughter in time. The ambiguity of it drove a small smile on her face and she cast a swift glance towards Tony's empty desk. It was one of those days again, when she didn't even know where he was most of the time and most of their conversations were handled via text and instant messaging.

Ziva was jerked out of her thoughts when McGee expelled a low breath and eased himself back into his chair. He linked his hands behind his head and looked at her. Ziva nodded. So, they were waiting for the results to be rendered, apparently. She folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Liora was beat Saturday", he remarked, smiling up at her. "She almost slept normal hours yesterday."

Ziva chuckled upon his painfully tired grimace. "So was Tali", she offered, before tilting her head to the side and eyeing him almost curiously. "So, Nolan-"

"End of that chapter", McGee replied quickly, elaborating over Ziva's narrowed eyes. "He called Deb and she called us, all unofficially, and- He's gone for good now, I think."

"That is good", Ziva concluded.

Just as the alarm went off onscreen McGee took a moment to let a broad smile split his face in half. "It really is", he asserted before turning his attention back to his computer. "Looks like we need to have a talk with someone."

Ziva followed his gaze and scanned the name and picture on display. She nodded her head and turned to go back over to her desk, retrieving her gear.

"So, nervous about Friday?", McGee inquired as he stepped out of the bullpen alongside her.

Ziva gave him a small sideway smile. "No, not at all", she answered unceremoniously.

McGee nodded and jabbed the button of the elevator. "I finally got to see Gibbs' surprise gift yesterday", he teased, a lopsided smirk forming on his face.

Ziva's chest lifted with a soft _'Ha'_. "You have?"

He nodded again and waited for her to pull something very old-school Mossad on him to get more information, but she didn't. Ziva just held on to her smile and turned back around to watch the doors of the elevator slide open. To their surprise, they revealed Tony with his arms propped up against the railing and his forehead creased prominently by the effects of his thinking scowl.

His eyes shot up at them, landing on the backpacks slung over their shoulders. "Where you off to?", he asked, swapping places with them.

"Interview", McGee said. "Results on my computer."

Tony nodded and his hand shot out to keep the elevator doors from closing in on them just yet. He looked at Ziva. "Are you-"

"Getting Tali on our way back?", she inserted, eliciting another nod. "Yes."

"Off you go then", Tony concluded. He withdrew his arm and hinted at a small wave as the doors slipped shut for good.

* * *

><p>"I am sorry, Jimmy, I-"<p>

The swooshing sound of the double doors drowned out the quiet tail of her sentence as she trailed off. She had expected Palmer to stand at one of the autopsy tables. But they were all empty, just as the man in question was nowhere to be found.

"What are you sorry for, my dear?", came Ducky's voice as the retired M.E. appeared at her side, a smile on his face.

"Jimmy called us down over half an hour ago, but McGee is in interrogation and I was taking longer in MTAC and Tony is picking up David", she relayed absently, eyeing the older man through narrowed eyes. "Should you be here, Ducky?"

"Ziva, Dr. Palmer may be the residing medical examiner, but I assure you that I can come to the place I worked at for almost forty years anytime I damn well please", Ducky declared with a smirk.

Ziva tilted her head to the side. She reached out to tap the perfectly triangular knot of his tie and returned his smile. "Absolutely, Ducky."

"This reminds me", he went on, patting her hand before she could withdraw it. "Have you had a chance yet to sit down and cogitate over the turmoil these past few weeks have had to offer?"

Ziva shook her head. "I will have time to do that when all of this is over, Ducky", she said quietly.

"Nonsense", he countered and went over to his old desk. "Things like these should not be put off. I should believe you have come to appreciate that. I already put on our tea."

He pulled out a second chair and motioned towards the teaset that had been the prelude to many a cleansing conversation down here over the years. Ziva's resolve withstood the old man's endearing smile only for a few more moments and, eventually, she deserted her spot by the door and walked over to take a seat opposite him. She sat perfectly upright, her hands folded in her lap, as she watched him pour their tea with experienced hands. Still, she couldn't help but notice the subtle tremor that slowed his movements, so attuned was she to the comfortable step-by-step of their tea musings, so attuned to any changes therein. She accepted the mug, so expertly prepared, with a grateful smile and a muttered _'Todah'_.

"Al lo devar", he sounded out slowly in return and drew his own mug towards him.

"We have not done this in a while", Ziva observed, using one of her palms as a makeshift saucer.

"That is a matter of perspective", he countered. "We are here now, aren't we?"

"We are", she replied and her eyes wandered off into the distance, over to the rows of cooling chambers that she had stared at too often in one life to count.

Ducky followed her gaze only momentarily and recalled the last conversation of similar setup that he had had in here. "Where is Eliana today?", he inquired.

"Home", Ziva answered, taking her time to turn back to him. "By now, together with both Tali and David, I hope."

Ducky's eyebrows rose above the upper rim of his glasses. "She is watching them by herself this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"You are anxious."

Ziva tapped a finger against her mug and drew her response out slowly, "Yes, I am."

"But you keep telling yourself that you might not trust her as _your_ mother, but you still trust her as _a_ mother", he went on, watching her closely.

Ziva's chuckle bounced off the immaculate surfaces of the room. Ducky had always cultivated an uncanny ability to encapsulate the mayhem inside of her in a two-liner. She just nodded her head and took another sip of her tea.

"All will turn out well, you will see", he assured her and she knew instantly that he wasn't only referring to that particular afternoon.

"At this point, Ducky", Ziva admitted, "I do hope you are right."

The corners of his mouth hinting at a smile, Ducky lifted his mug in a sweeping motion, almost as though he wanted to toast her. "It is amazing, the many ways we can choose and are willing to adapt", he said.

Ziva slightly dipped her head to the side, her eyebrows lifting briefly in a _'No kidding'_ manner.

"The question, I daresay, would be to which extent you consider it to be an adaptation", he continued. "How much of your story has changed."

"My story is still the same, Ducky", Ziva declared with returned confidence. "Eliana being here does not change how I felt when I lost my mother or how often I wished her back. My story is still that of someone who lost her mother too young. Nothing can change that."

Ducky nodded his head, an air of finality engulfing the way he claimed the teapot to re-fill Ziva's mug. The smile on his face settled in more comfortably. "And on towards the future we cast our eyes", he educed, offering her a wink that drew a similar smile on her face. "Abigail dropped by yesterday and we came to the conclusion that my house is certainly the most serviceable venue for the upcoming extravaganza."

Ziva was moved into silence for a moment and she reached a hand across the desk to place on top of his. "Thank you, Ducky", she said.

"My dear, I truly feel quite honored to be a part of this", he waved her off at once.

"Ducky, I-"

Ziva's eyes were still fixed on his as she pulled back her hand and thought about the words that were itching to find their way out of her mouth. Ducky regarded her almost curiously as he waited for her to say something. After all, this was Ducky, a man she trusted. She trusted him, more so than with her life, with her feelings. He had known things about her when no one else had been to know, and he had seen things about her that no one else had seen up to that point. She trusted him.

"Abby is putting a lot of effort into planning this for us, and she insisted on doing it entirely on her own", Ziva recommenced slowly. "Of course I do not want to tell her what to do-"

"Oh Ziva-"

"Tony and I", she cut in quickly, adamant to get her point across. "If I had chosen anyone more like myself than Tony or anyone less Tony than him, all of this would not be."

"Like pieces of a puzzle long adrift in the world", he mused.

"You see, that is not what I think it is", Ziva countered and enclosed her mug with both of her hands, inching forward in her chair. "He does not complete me. But part of Tony… He is like a side of me that I could never be, but a side that I needed to have in order to be happy. Are you- Am I making sense?"

Ducky offered her a gentle smile and mimicked her earlier move, cupping one of her hands in his. "You would like the palooza in honor of your love to be more of an understatement than what Abigail might have in mind for it", he concluded.

Appreciation settled on Ziva's face in the form of a gentle smile and she nodded her head. "Ours, it is not perfect love. But because it is not perfect, it can withstand change. It is not love that fits. It is adaptive. Love that can adapt. What Tony and I have, it is functioning love. Love that works, yes?"

Ducky nodded in understanding. "I will try my best and see to it that this will be reflected in the end result", he assured her, his voice toned down to a whisper. "Also, I shall go about it as subtly as I possibly can."

Ziva exhaled with a soft, almost silent, laugh. "Thank you, Ducky."

"And once again there is no need to thank me, dear", he contended. "I trust that what you just said will also be reflected in your vows?"

"I have had my vow ready for a long time actually."

"You have?", Ducky inquired, instantly gripped by the poetic nature of her assertion.

"Alicia", Ziva started, referring to the therapist she had sought out in the first place upon Ducky's urging, "One day she insisted I write out my feelings about Tony. I was learning to keep clear of repeating an old pattern and I needed to realize that Tony was not a part of that pattern."

"I am sure your words have not lost any truth over the years", Ducky surmised.

His statement was just a filler, a stand-in for silence. They had done this often enough in the past for Ziva to recognize that. In his mind, as the distant sounds of drilling were carried in from the adjacent evidence garage, Ducky appreciated the many ways their conversations had changed and the many ways the woman he was having them with had changed. Years ago she had struggled with the simplest admissions and the most reserved evaluations of her own state of being. Now, things had changed.

Ziva lowered her mug, the tip of her chin grazing the ornate china as her lips set into a smile. "I read my words often while he was away and I will know them by heart."

* * *

><p>After a full day's work had yielded nothing more tangible than a frayed array of leads and a long list of interrogations and interviews scheduled for the next day, Tony and Ziva had finally made it home in time for the second half of dinner. Sure, the vibe in the kitchen had shifted as soon as they had claimed their seats at the table and both Tali and David (Tali admittedly more so than David) had launched a barrage of urgent stories at their parents' tired faces. Throughout, however, nothing about their more reserved, but still flowing dinner talk as they had entered, not a detail in their stories, not even a gesture, expression or eye-roll had stood out as particularly disconcerting to either of them. By the very looks of it the kids' afternoon with Eliana had gone off without a hitch.<p>

Tony was well aware that the recent case might quickly outgrow customary proportions once again and that he might spend a few hours overtime at the office in the next couple of days. Ziva, therefore, readily understood his subtle nudges and let Tony claim the pre-bedtime routine for himself. Despite his eager parade and arm-flailing embellishments while ushering the kids upstairs Tony still took note of the Hebrew uttered between the two women as they proceeded to clear away the dishes, words that he just knew were ones of gratitude.

Tony and Tali could still be heard talking animatedly upstairs, when David stepped into the living room and headed over to the couch where his mother was seated. Ziva had unfolded a book in her lap, her cell phone silently serving as a page spreader. Abby had been texting her ceaselessly for the past hour and Ziva had thus far been adamant to grace her friend's efforts with an answer every time - no matter how little she truly cared about details like colors and food and music. Though, yes, she had been quick to issue definite music choices; Tony, she knew, valued them too much not to.

When David came to stand next to her, Ziva instinctively reached out a hand and ran it through her son's Tony-colored hair. The eight-year-old had a habit of not drying them enough ever since seizing that task from them in a bid to be more independent. Satisfied with the result, though, Ziva briefly turned back to her book and patted the cushion beside her. Before David had even taken a seat, Ziva had stuck her phone between the pages and abandoned the book on the floor. She mimicked her son's position, tucking her legs under her body, and leaned against the armrest to face him.

Eliana, who had thus far relished the comfortable silence between Ziva and herself, almost simultaneously stood from the lounger across from the pair. She remembered the expression straddling David's face very well. She wasn't quite sure after whom exactly he was taking with it, but it made her respect their need for privacy. For a moment, Tali's giggling faint in the background, Eliana stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her eyes returned to mother and son perched, like mirror images, on the couch. The physicality of it made her smile. It was true that Tali reminded her most of the Ziva she had known years ago, but David was indeed most like the Ziva her daughter had become. Just his way of comporting himself, the way he carried his eight years of life experience through this world: That was Ziva more than it was anybody else.

"I think Tommy and I are friends again", David proclaimed offhandedly.

Ziva folded her hands in her lap and eyed him curiously. "You are?"

David nodded. "He sat with me during lunch. And we did an exercise together", he explained and briefly sent a glance over his shoulder to confirm they were alone. "And we talked about grandma."

It wasn't lost on Ziva that David had never addressed Eliana that way before. "You did? What did you talk about?", she inquired.

"He said that you gotta be really happy that your mom's back, 'cause he would be really, really happy if his dad came back. But he knows that won't ever happen", David declared.

Ziva was hit by his solemn expression and could only nod her head. "I know."

"But then I told him it's not so easy, 'cause you're angry and disappointed too, because she went away in the first place", David went on quickly and folded his arms in front of himself, his elbows resting against his pajama-clad knees.

Ziva suppressed the sigh she felt coming on. It was almost unnerving as much as it made her swell with pride to watch her son, eight years old and not a day younger, trying to make sense of something that barely made any sense at all. She dipped her head to the side. "David-"

The little boy, however, just shook his head and Ziva broke off at once. "You said grandma's sorry and all", he continued, copying the position of her head. "But you know what I found out?"

"What?", Ziva urged, encouraging him with a casual nod.

"When you're sorry, it still happened what you did. You never make it not happen, even when you're sorry", he observed, his eyebrows knitted together pensively.

Time, in a nutshell. Ziva nodded. It was also the belligerent plague of her life: all that she had done, in her life and past that she couldn't make un-happen just because she was sorry or had changed.

"That is very wise of you", she praised. She wanted to reach out a hand to her son, but his poise was still tense, still full of conflict, so she didn't.

"But how can that ever work?", he asked, a hint of frustration in his voice.

"How can what work?"

"Saying sorry."

"You see, saying sorry is not all there is to it. One has to apologize, and one has to forgive", Ziva explained. "If someone is truly sorry, then it is up to someone else to truly forgive. And forgiving means looking past what happened and trying to move on."

David fell silent for a moment and Ziva just knew that she had to mentally brace herself for what his reply would be. It usually happened when he took the time to arrange his thoughts, mull over her words, that he issued the most judicious comebacks.

"Are you and grandma moving on already?", he inquired.

Ziva offered her son a soft smile. "I do not think we are moving along already", she ruminated. "But we might have stopped chasing each other."

Maybe he didn't fully understand her right then, but the contributing imagery made him laugh out loud. "Mom?"

"Yes?"

"This is all really weird", he concluded with a sigh.

Ziva happily returned his laugh and leaned forward. "You are so right, tateleh", she agreed as she cupped his face with her hands and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "It really is very weird."

David turned around and moved to lean against her, aligning his back to her embrace. Ziva kissed the back of his head. "Grandma was really nice today", he said.

"I am glad", Ziva replied. She smoothed down his tousled hair and titled her head a little to get a better look at him. What she found was his contemplative expression.

"I think it's okay now if I start to like her, right?", he asked in a small voice.

"If you think so, then I am sure it is the right time", she assured him.

"And I was wrong before."

"About what, tateleh?", Ziva asked, running the back of her hand down the side of his face.

"She is your mom like you're my mom. Just not the same, same way", he clarified, eliciting a small laugh from his mother. "Like… She's a mom, you know?"

Ziva turned the both of them into opposite directions, so she could really meet his eyes. "I am curious, what is it that makes a mom?"

David just smiled at her, a shrug dropping from his shoulders. "The way she looks at you."

"How does she look?"

"I don't know. Like Uncle Gibbs does sometimes. Like she's really, I don't know, proud of you?", he tried, fixing her with his bright emerald eyes. "Like a mom. Like you."

Ziva unconsciously tightened her hold on her son. There was this dull, heavy dumbbell of love pushing a dent into her heart again. She was a mom. Just like that. Something had happened between her past and her present and that had somehow, somewhere allowed her to become _'like a mom'_; a collective role more than a singular, a something to someone else instead of a distant everything.

"And Tali wanted her to tell us a story about you, but she said that we had to ask you before she could tell us any stories", he went on, unaware of the enormity of his words.

Ziva recognized Eliana's conscious effort to meet every possible condition of her being here and doing it their way, hers and Tony's. They were the parents, and Eliana acknowledged that. It made her more of a parent in Ziva's eyes at that moment than a lot of the things she had done in the past.

"I shall talk to her about that then", Ziva promised.

David nodded. "She can go with you to the Synagogue now too, can't she?"

Ziva just stared at him for a second. David had only recently started to pay more attention to his Israeli heritage. He had been hearing about Jewish traditions more and more in class and Ziva was always happy to answer all of his questions, to relay her memories, and assure him that he could decide to do his beliefs whichever way he chose to. Tony and she had decided not to force anything on either of their children. That had probably been one of their earliest decisions altogether. Yes, both of her children were Jewish through her, but Ziva had always tried to make them want to learn about their heritage as much as she tried to make them want to learn Hebrew. Thus far, she had succeeded, but she knew that the time would come, as her children grew up, that it would become more conscious a matter of discussion.

Above all, however, their family wasn't traditional in any religious sense, not their four-headed one and not their extended one. Among the four of them, Gibbs and Ducky in the midst of it, and Abby and McGee on the other end, they had adopted a veritable mash-up of traditions throughout the years. Ziva herself wasn't what one would call devout, but she had re-discovered the beauty and solace of her heritage bit by bit after Somalia. She always tried to work the Jewish angle in wherever it seemed important. And Tony, who was even more lenient with his cultural and spiritual leanings - apart from some traditions he still, or again, held very dear - had always supported her in that, no matter what.

"She could, yes", Ziva breathed tentatively. "We will have to see."

Right now, there really was nothing to see, though. Roaming around at Synagogues wasn't exactly part of the plan. Then, when Kadeer would eventually show and they might actually get a hold of him: How long would Eliana stay here in DC? What would they do afterwards anyway? Those questions were too hard to ponder, and Ziva quickly concentrated back on her son.

"And Tali's right. She smiles a lot like you", David admitted and with it painted an unconscious smile onto his mother's face. "Yeah, like that."

Ziva's smile widened into a grin and she narrowed her eyes at him. "It looks like you really have been giving your grandmother a chance to prove herself to you", she surmised.

David offered her a lopsided shrug, blinking sheepishly. "You asked me to, right?"

Ziva couldn't suppress a chuckle. She inclined her head to whisper into his ear, "I am very, very proud of you, my love."

"I know", he replied along with a DiNozzo grin.

The little boy took a hold of his mother's hands and re-arranged the arms she had draped around him, so he could snuggle deeper into her embrace. Ziva just held on to her son, enjoying the calming solemnity of it at the end of a hectic day. The two of them didn't stay alone for long, however, when Tali came barreling down the stairs ten minutes later. Ziva felt the small sign of annoyance when David breathed out a sigh and she couldn't suppress a laugh. She planted a kiss against his temple before lifting her eyes and attention to her daughter.

The little girl skidded to a halt in front of them, wiggling an exaggerated number of hair ties into Ziva's face. "Mommy, can you do my hair?", the five-year-old requested sweetly.

"What do we say?"

"Please?"

Ziva straightened herself up against the armrest, and David right along with her. "Do you want your hair to be really curly tomorrow, tateleh?", Ziva checked, her eyebrows lifting.

Tali nodded her head vigorously. "Yep, like yours, mommy", she confirmed.

Ziva returned her daughter's nod and motioned for her to turn around. Tony was on the verge of the last step into the living room, when Ziva leaned around David and started to comb her fingers gently through Tali's hair, parting them for two separate braids. A contended smile settled on his face.

The movie man in Tony sometimes entertained the thought of time travel. He did. And in various ways, too. There was the inadvertent jumping back and forth in time; there was the techno-assisted willful rewriting of history; there was the Dickensian lesson in a linear streak connecting past, present and future; there was the cleansing of the future by kicking out bits and pieces from the present; and, among many more, there was the deliberate orchestration of one's own life. At that moment at the foot of the stairs, Tony was thinking about the latter: of having the ability to go back in time to any moment, any day in his life and get a do-over.

That happened sometimes. And sometimes he just wanted to have that ability so as to go back and do it over, live that day again, just the exact same way. Because it really seemed so worth it sometimes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Teaser<strong> **for next chapter, cue 2014:** "The phone slipped, fell. Crackling. A thud."_


	45. Between Two Exits

_Welcome to 2014. Welcome to the last four chapters of this story. Tight schedule, next chapter: Tuesday. Please mind the **time stamps** below. Thank you all. - Coginom_

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 45 Between Two Exits<strong>

**Tuesday, April 20****th**** 2021**

**_01:07 pm_**

"David."

A breath. A pause. "Ziva?"

"Eliana? What-"

The phone slipped, fell. Crackling. A thud.

"Ima?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Six hours earlier…<em>**

"You never went on holiday anywhere?", David asked, his spoon dangling in midair.

Ziva turned in time to catch her son's incredulous look, unable to suppress a small laugh. "That is not as unusual as it sounds, David", she assured him.

"But you did", Eliana countered, entering the kitchen. "At least once."

"I did?", Ziva retorted, her eyebrows shooting upwards.

Eliana, encouraged by Ziva's honestly curious expression, turned to her grandson and continued, "At my parents' house in Meron. Your mother and her sister, they both hated it."

"Really?", David exclaimed with a smile, looking alternately at his mother and grandmother.

Ziva tilted her head back. "We did?"

Her grandparents hadn't outlived their youngest daughter for long. Ziva barely remembered them either. They had both died in devoted succession of each other about two years after Eliana (presumably) had. She must have been eleven, or maybe twelve. Tali had still been very young. But her grandmother and Eliana had looked so much alike that she had just liked looking at an older, living version of her mother whenever they had come to visit their daughter Nettie. They hadn't often submitted themselves to the strain of traveling halfway across Israel and they had never once stepped foot into Eli's house, but she only had fond, if few, memories of her grandparents. Ziva couldn't believe that she would have hated staying with them in Meron. Her child-self, the one that had lost a mother, surely would have loved staying with them, getting away from Tel Aviv and her father's binding rules. Just another thing that felt like an alternate reality in which she hadn't been half-orphaned.

"You begged me to come and get you", Eliana elaborated with a reminiscent smile. "The two of you never enjoyed being away from home."

"I completely forgot about that", Ziva realized.

Eliana nodded her head and chose not to add anything. "I believe you are needed upstairs", she informed her instead. "Tony and Tali are not seeing eye to eye."

Ziva cast a weary glance at the half-packed lunches and quickly wiped her hands on a rag. "Can you finish this for me?", she requested.

Eliana surveyed the progress of Ziva's routine lunch-packing endeavors and nodded her head. "Of course."

Ziva was already halfway out of the door and rushing towards the source of what started to sound like a full-out squabble between father and daughter, when she whipped back around. "Tali does not eat-"

"Cucumbers", Eliana finished for her and held up the half-eaten green cylinder that she was just about to put away. "I have been told."

Ziva offered her an appreciative nod before hurrying up the stairs.

David's eyes landed back on his grandmother as soon as he heard his mother's feet hit the stairs. "So, when mom hated staying at her grandparents', what did she do?", he inquired, tilting his head to the side.

Eliana looked up to meet his curious smile. "Mostly it involved your mother running away and hiding in one of the olive trees in a nearby orchard", she remembered and briefly yielded her attention to the memory. Then, however, she turned around fully, a sandwich clasped in her hand, and regarded the little boy through apologetic eyes. "I do not think I should have told you this."

"Don't worry", David replied with a shrug. "I won't tell."

* * *

><p>Gibbs had called the other night and told them that he would pick up the kids and let them help with a mystery job that Tony and Ziva rightfully guessed concerned, to equal parts, his secret project and April 23rd approaching with a jolly bounce in its stride and whistles blaring. In light of yesterday's events, however, they had asked Gibbs to take the kids home as soon as they were finished since Eliana had offered to watch them again. It had proven to be a good setup in all, so they both agreed that time spent with their grandmother would be time well spent. Not to mention that things around Kadeer had markedly quieted down while things with Eliana were markedly looking up - and even if neither of them dared to say it, but Tony and Ziva feared that it wouldn't last.<p>

Thus far, their morning had been filled with interrogations and interviews. They were persistently rotating in their roles and between rooms, passing each other by with few words uttered in-between. Rounding an orange corner, Ziva twice almost ran into Abby who was tightly clutching a tablet to her chest both times. The first time Abby readily admitted that she had been talking to Tony so he could share his opinion on a few extravaganza-related details, adding as a throwaway comment that she was having lunch with Ducky; something Ziva acknowledged with a pointed smile. The second time, however, Abby was holding on so tightly to the tablet, of which Ziva knew it was her personal and not the NCIS one, that she didn't press her best friend any further.

They were eating lunch at their desks, filling each other in on snippets of the case and the gist of their interviewing marathon. McGee had momentarily substituted his sandwich by the clicker, his arm extended towards the big plasma screen in the middle of the bullpen and the frown on his face directed unmistakably at Tony.

"There's a rule about always suspecting the spouse", McGee insisted.

Tony cast another glance at Lance Corporal Barton's wife, once again dipping his head to the side. "I'm confused, are those my rules or the rules of former times?", he shot back.

"Elementary", McGee countered, taking another bite of his sandwich. "Right back to Sherlock Holmes."

"The rule hasn't changed, just the priorities", Tony declared with a full-out smile. "She's not it. I just know."

Ziva had thus far followed their bickering with a contented grin straddling her face. As long as the guys were caught up in their McNozzo bramedy, she could silently and comfortably lean back, enjoy and eat her lunch. Whenever they were behaving more like a married couple than Tony and she, for her that meant a veritable break from the case.

"Sensing it, yes?", Ziva added finally and sent a small, pointed smile towards Tony. He was about to comment on it, too, when Ziva's phone started buzzing against a folder by her side. She let go of her salad and checked the display. Tony's eyebrows shot up questioningly. She shook her head.

"David."

Tony and McGee didn't pay much attention to the phone call at first, each focusing back on their food as long as they couldn't go at each other with their differing theories. However, they both aptly took note of the lines of worry that appeared on Ziva's face just a second later. Tony, in particular, recognized the rigidity in her brown eyes that settled there instead of fear, because the fear really only made it into her eyes when things were just about lost.

"Eliana? What-"

Eliana. Tony glanced at his watch. It was a little past one. He quickly abandoned his lunch and rounded his desk, walking up to Ziva's. She didn't look at him, just pressed the phone tightly to her ear.

"Ima?"

Tony's eyes narrowed. He hadn't heard that word in a while. "What?", he asked quickly.

Ziva jumped up and stepped around him, holding her phone out to McGee. "Trace my last call", she ordered. When he didn't move right away, she slapped the air in front of his face with the phone. "Do it."

McGee nodded and his fingers started their brisk sprint across the keyboard. It took Ziva another minute to realize that he didn't need her phone in physical form to perform a trace, that he could just take her number from the NCIS directory and that the zooming-in motion visible on the plasma screen was his doing without resorting to her phone at all. Blinking, she withdrew her hand from where it was still hovering above his desk and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She took a step forward, Tony instantly and wordlessly by her side, as they watched the proverbial, and literal, pin drop. They couldn't believe their eyes, or the address appearing in a small, grey bubble.

"The call came from your address", McGee read in a low voice, alternating his gaze between his screen and their stony expression.

"Tony, call an ambulance", Ziva urged, already turning to go back to her desk.

Faster than her instincts, Tony caught her arm before she had even moved her body far enough away from his. His look, the look only she got from him, said it all: empathy, understanding, determination. "Ziva, what's going on?", he demanded, his lips and jaw barely moving.

Just as his, her pleading eyes told him everything he needed to know. "Please", she reiterated.

Tony immediately let go of her arm and nodded his head. He walked over to his desk and got his things, dialing 911 on his way to her side and together they hurried towards the elevator and down to the parking lot.

* * *

><p>Ziva was driving. She was driving silently. While car tires screeched and traffic rage struck them with its honking and the occasional curse word, the inside of their car was eerily silent. Tony had yet to learn what this really was about, but he didn't need to know right now. His urge to ask and find out was far outweighed by recognizing the rigid determination in Ziva's eyes. Her composure had slipped only once during the phone call, only once worry had appeared. Then it had left and been replaced by her survivor basics. Tony just tightened his grip on the seat and kept his eyes set straight ahead. Right now, it was not about saying anything.<p>

When they arrived at their apartment block an ambulance with doors spread open was already parked outside. They scrambled out of their car and sprinted towards the building. Voices became louder and words more distinct the closer they came. Not slowing, they found a stretcher in the middle of the lobby and, as soon as the paramedics around had cleared their line of vision, Eliana lying on it.

Tony almost bumped into Ziva from behind when she stopped, her eyes dropping to the bloody smears on the tiles and the blood seeping into the doormat right where the _'o'_ was meeting the _'m'_ in _'Welcome'_. Lifting her eyes, she noticed the gauze wrapped around Eliana's middle, her blouse torn and her jacket abandoned on the floor. The red of blood was slowly ousting the white.

"Ziva", came Eliana's voice, faint and barely more than a breath, but it yanked Ziva's eyes right towards hers. She hadn't yet realized that Eliana was, in fact, conscious.

Ziva nodded, stepping up to the stretcher as one of the paramedics moved to the side. Her mouth opened, but she merely reiterated her nod.

"How is she?", Tony inquired, coming up behind Ziva and addressing the woman that appeared to be in charge.

"You with her?", she checked, pointing between them and Eliana.

"Yes."

The woman nodded. "We gotta get her to an ER", she informed them quickly, already proceeding to push the stretcher towards the front gate. "She lost a lot of blood."

"Tony", Eliana called out from halfway there, reaching out her hand.

"Yes?"

Eliana opened her fist to reveal a crumbled piece of fabric. With Tony's eyes resting on hers, her gaze briefly rolled down to her injury. Understanding, he leaned over, grabbed a glove from one of the paramedics' emergency kits and used it to safely pluck the fabric from Eliana's palm.

"You-"

"We're right behind you", Tony assured her as Ziva appeared next to him.

Ziva's and Eliana's gazes met, but Ziva didn't issue a word, or a nod. She just watched as her mother was carted off and Eliana's mouth moved in response to a question that one of the paramedics had just asked her. Then Ziva felt a hand on her shoulder and she tore her eyes away, moving them to Tony.

"You drive?", he asked randomly, a small smile flittering across his face.

Ziva didn't answer right away. Instead, she bent down and picked up Eliana's abandoned jacket. It was the brown one, the leather one that Tali had had her pick out specifically because she liked how Ziva looked in it. A sardonic laugh dropped from her lips, then she shook her head.

"Will you?"

Tony nodded and together they walked back to the car.

* * *

><p>They had somehow ended up in a quiet room on the ICU floor, seated in two chairs among a bunch of empty look-alike chairs. All of them were lined up phalanx-style against bluish walls that were, halfway up, crossed out horizontally by a large band of whiteness. Tony didn't know why he even noticed it, but he bet that its unnecessary white largeness could have easily fit his starfished hand, from the tip of his thumb to his little finger.<p>

He was standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in hand. Ziva was still sitting in the same position that he had left her in ten minutes ago: with her arms folded in front of her chest, her legs crossed, Eliana's brown jacket in her lap and staring holes into its leather surface. He really wasn't sure how exactly they had ended up here. It hadn't happened like it did in the movies or on TV, with sirens blaring and personnel shouting agitated orders. They had just parked the car, walked in, confirmed their relation to Eliana, been told that she was being treated and then directed to this very room. It had been eerily civil. And Ziva had yet to utter a word.

Tony finally pushed himself away from the doorframe and stepped up to her. "Coffee?", he asked simply, not even holding the cup out to her. With his arms slack against his sides he just gave it a small, redundant shake.

Ziva rolled her eyes up at him, no answer on her lips.

Tony nodded. "I know you don't do coffee really, but this feels like one of those times, you know?"

Just then a small smile flickered across her face. "No coffee", she declined quietly.

"Yeah, didn't think so", he asserted and sat back down, placing the cup on the chair next to him. He wasn't feeling up for coffee either.

"I called Duvall. She agreed to take over the Barton case for us. Traded her an on-call weekend next month", Tony explained since he had left her in the first place claiming that he needed to make a few calls. They weren't getting a signal in here. "Also called McGee. He's on his way."

"There are more people to call than that", Ziva asserted, lifting her eyes to stare at the pitiful play corner littered with Legos and a black toy car that was missing a tire.

Tony nodded. "We'll work that out as soon as Tim gets here."

"You were right", Ziva declared, a sigh wedged in her throat beyond her gaping lips. "We only ever come to hospitals for things much worse than bumps on the head."

"No, I wasn't right", Tony countered lightly, meeting her scowl. "You remember how much we freaked that time David fell off his crib when he let go too early trying to climb out of it?"

Ziva couldn't suppress a chuckle, causing Tony to do the same. "Or the cut on Tali's hand that you were convinced was getting infected", she reminded him, grinning at the memory of his wild theories about everyday blood poisoning.

"They were fine both times", Tony recalled, adding no less convinced, "She will be fine."

"There you are", McGee's triumphant exclamation cut into Ziva's likely response and they both turned in time for his _'Gotcha!'_ pose. His keys were dangling from his hand and his face looked slightly flushed. "Any news on Eliana yet?"

Tony shook his head. "Last time we asked she was still being examined."

"The kids", Ziva threw in at once, catching a glimpse at the time on McGee's watch.

"Tony texted me a while ago", McGee assured her quickly. "Abby's got Tali. She picked her up along with Liora and they're at the office now."

"David's got-"

"Soccer practice, I know." McGee nodded. "We're on it. If I can't make it, Jimmy will take him."

Ziva finally lifted her head up to him along with her eyes and a grateful smile curled at the edges of her mouth. "Thank you", she said.

McGee just nodded his head, returning her smile. "Any specifics on what to tell them?", he asked, knowing very well that if Tali wouldn't ask right away, David sure would.

"Just that we're working the bad man case?", Tony suggested, his eyes flittering to Ziva for confirmation.

Ziva nodded. "As soon as we know anything we will come and get them", she insisted. That she was sure of, if nothing else. This day would end with her looking into her children's faces, and the world would damn well stay out of it. "We will explain."

"Okay", McGee said, alternating his gaze between the two of them, studying their faces. He took a deep breath. "You ready for some details?" The change was almost immediate, re-attiring their expressions and looks in a tight wrap of purpose.

Tony nodded his head decidedly. "Hit us."

McGee pulled up a chair and placed himself right in front of them. "Eliana stole the phone that she called you with", he started, looking at Ziva. "Probably on her way back to your apartment from wherever she was attacked."

"So, we can't use it to trace her steps back and find out where exactly she was attacked", Tony deduced, crossing that option off of his mental to-do list. What was more, that basically left them dependent on Eliana making it out of this fully conscious.

"No."

"The phone is probably still at our place", Ziva realized.

She mentally headslapped herself. It wasn't enough that she was so unfamiliar with the feeling, but she had been so out of it that she hadn't even considered processing the scene in the lobby of their building. This was their case. Kadeer, Eliana - they were the remnants of the case they had been working on for over a month. What was wrong with her? She never acted that way. Her focus wasn't supposed to slip; and just that way either. She wasn't feeling like she knew she was feeling whenever Tony was hurt, or Tali and David. She was feeling like a little girl again. Was this how it felt to be a daughter, not a partner, not a mother?

McGee nodded, the movement yanking Ziva back to the conversation at hand. "I already contacted the guy it belongs to. I'll take it to him, tell him it's an NCIS case."

Ziva pressed her lips into a terse line. "Tim, is there any way we-"

"I'll take care of the blood too", he assured her quickly and without letting her finish. He had been at the scene when Tony had called him, marking the area off as a crime scene. "Already called in a favor."

"Thank you", Ziva repeated, her head dipping to the side.

Once again, McGee just offered her a knowing smile. "So, are we thinking the same thing?", he asked then.

"Kadeer", Tony replied unceremoniously.

On their way to the hospital Tony had gotten a call from Director Vance, informing him that the team assigned to Eliana that morning had just reported back to the office and that they had lost their detail.

Ziva started to shake her head. "But how could they lose her? She was under-"

"They just lost her, Zee", Tony stated quietly, searching her eyes.

"But how?"

"Ziva-"

"Gibbs", she cut in with her next-pressing question.

"He was visiting Leyla and Amira this morning", McGee answered. "But he's on his way back now."

"You called him?"

"Yes."

A silent laugh caused Ziva's chest to heave. For a reason she wasn't ready to ponder the thought of Gibbs in his car driving towards them made her feel more at ease. Suddenly there was Tony's comforting hand on her knee. She looked up into his eyes. "Eli."

He nodded, having had the same thought. "I'll call him later."

"No, just remind me to do it", she held. "I will do it."

"Okay", he said, giving her knee an unnecessary, but well-appreciated squeeze.

"That what I brought this for?", McGee inquired then, brandishing one of the smaller variety of evidence bags. He nodded his head towards something momentarily unidentifiable wrapped into a glove on the chair beside Tony.

Remembering, Tony nodded his hand and wriggled his fingers over the piece of fabric Eliana had entrusted to him. "I'm guessing she ripped it off when she was attacked. Get it to Abby for processing", he instructed.

"Will do." McGee reached over and carefully bagged it, slipping the glove into his pocket to throw away at a later point.

"Thanks, Tim", Tony declared, a lopsided smile on his face.

"No problem", McGee waved him off and stood from his chair. "I'll keep you updated. Call us when you hear something?"

Tony nodded. "We will."

With one last sweeping look at the both of them, Ziva offering him a smile as well, McGee left the room and, after a moment of hesitation, decided to head left down the hallway beyond the door. Tony and Ziva shared a small smile before going back to their own train of thoughts. After almost two confusing weeks of waiting for Kadeer to strike, but not really, this was what had come of it - and they were sitting in a hospital because of it. It was no less confusing than before.

"We had this whole trap set up at the front door and Kadeer just went all _Loki_ right through the middle", Tony surmised, a rueful note in his voice.

Ziva's eyes dropped to his hand that was still resting on top of her knee. She finally disentangled her arms and slung Eliana's jacket over the armrest of her chair. "I need her to be fine, Tony", she admitted as she rolled her eyes up to find his smile peering back at her.

"Don't have a second time in you, I know."

Ziva shook her head. "This does not feel like back then. It is like-" She started to look for the words, but Tony wasn't quick to supply any. He realized that it wasn't about finding the words, but about identifying the feelings. So he just looked on as Ziva's gaze drifted off. "Like I had something that is now slipping off the tip of my fingers."

"You did", Tony said. "You had a second chance. You still do."

Ziva was in the midst of a small nod when a figure clad in white entered the room. For some reason he looked the part of purpose enough to make them both get up from their chairs, looking at him expectantly.

"Are you the family of Eliana David?", he inquired.

There it was: _family_. Funny, how insouciantly it had happened, and in a throwaway question. Ziva's eyes briefly dropped to the chart clasped in his hand. She wondered if her name was written on it anywhere. If there was a line with her name, or a box, and her designation right next to it.

"Yes."

"She's your-"

"Mother."

"Yes", he confirmed, finally taking a look at the chart. "Well, your mother is very lucky, Ms. David. She had already lost a lot of blood and we had to reanimate her briefly on arrival. But fortunately for her, the blade missed all major organs."

The scenarios in their heads had been multifold and, incidentally, they had both expected it to have been a gunshot, not a knife that had inflicted her injury. "She was stabbed?", Tony checked.

"Yes. To the right side", the doctor confirmed. Then he raised his arms a little, indicating the back of his hands and his knuckles. "She also has extensive defensive wounds on her hands and bruising on her legs."

Ziva nodded, not even attempting to count the many times she had been treated for injuries of the like in the past. It seemed so strangely minor. "But she is alright?", she asked, feeling Tony's hand encircle hers and unconsciously curling her fingers around his.

"A little out of it. We gave her pain medication and antibiotics, just in case", he assured them. "But she's okay. I'd like to keep her two days for observation, monitor her heart. She's not the youngest anymore. But if the tests keep coming back clear, she should be out of here very soon."

Ziva couldn't keep the relief from acting out on her face in a small smile. "We can see her?"

"Room 506."

"Thank you."

They both turned back to their chairs to retrieve their things, Ziva taking a hold of Eliana's jacket once again and Tony grabbing the abandoned coffee cup that he promptly discarded in the trash on their way down the corridors. As soon as the hundreds digit on the rectangular metal plates that signified the rooms started displaying fives their stride slowed. Even though her grip had long slackened, Ziva only slipped her hand out of Tony's grasp when she reached out to open the door to 506. The room was bright and for the first time in the last two windowless hours they realized it was still light outside. Ziva stopped herself two steps in, waiting for Eliana to turn before she crossed the remaining distance to the bed.

"Shalom", Ziva greeted in a low voice, quickly checking the reaction of the room's other two occupants. They appeared unperturbed.

Tony moved to draw the curtains around Eliana's bed, providing them with a little more privacy. "How're you doing?", he asked, walking back over to stand beside his partner.

"They said I lost a lot of blood before-", she started, stopping herself when she needed to cough. Ziva offered a hand to support Eliana's weight in her attempt to sit up straighter and Tony reached behind her for the remote control to simultaneously lift up the bedhead.

"You were stabbed", Ziva assessed bluntly, causing Tony to roll his eyes at her from the side.

Eliana started to chuckle, but it quickly ended in her clearing her throat. "Yes, I was there", she retorted. "Considering that, I feel fine."

"Like mother, like daughter", Tony mumbled, earning himself a glare from Ziva.

Eliana watched as Ziva carefully draped the jacket she remembered wearing over the nearest chair, her fingers tracing the bloodstain that was barely visible on the right side. "I am sorry for worrying you", she admitted quietly.

Eliana's eyes, however, remained on Ziva's hands as they came to rest on top of her jacket. They were delicate hands, without callouses, the hands of a mother stroking her children's hair and not hands to hold guns and to lead blades. She inwardly nodded to herself.

Tony and Ziva shared a look. "We should have been put on your detail round the clock", Ziva offered apologetically. "It was a mistake-"

"It was _my_ mistake, Ziva", Eliana held. "I made out a small window of opportunity and I seized it."

"Seized what? What are you talking about?", Tony inquired.

Eliana took a deep breath, her eyes momentarily flickering to the machine measuring her blood pressure. "I knew it was there and then I might have talked them into-"

"Talked them into what?", Ziva demanded, lifting her arms in front of her body and folding them to a defensive wall. "What did you do?"

Eliana's mouth gaped for a moment. "For thirty years I could not mourn the death of my children. I could not pass up that chance knowing that I might actually die soon", she admitted. "I thought I was being careful."

Unconsciously, Ziva's eyes first looked for Tony's and she found the very bewildered expression straddling his face that she had expected to find. "What are you saying?", she asked again, more distinct in her pronunciation this time.

"You took out a few minutes every day-"

Eliana nodded. "Twenty-one minutes exactly."

"You took out twenty-one minutes every day in a plan that's built around everyday routines", Tony summarized, his voice hardening. "To… To do what?"

"I laid down flowers in front of a nearby Synagogue", Eliana clarified plainly. As her eyes wandered over to her daughter, she received nothing more than Ziva's glare. "And now Kadeer is injured. I defended myself, we fought. That is when I ripped off a part of his jacket. I must have driven the knife into his shoulder."

"This is-"

"I think I might have tried to finish by myself what I had started so long ago", she ruminated, her gaze briefly dropping to the floor.

"Are you out of your mind?", Ziva growled as her arms broke apart in sudden exasperation. She curled her right hand into a fist, using thumb, index and middle finger to imply the shape of a gun that she then briefly held against her temple before throwing her hand into the air. "What were you even thinking?"

"Ziva-"

"We have been bending over backwards to keep you safe", she went on no less forcefully, straining to keep quiet and yet her eyes were blazing with anger. "We let you into our home."

"I know that and I am thank-"

Ziva shook her head adamantly. "No, you don't", she shot back. "We let our children get attached to you."

"Hey." Tony placed his hand on her upper arm, trying to rein in his partner's emotions from the outside, no matter how justified he considered them to be.

Ziva didn't fight against Tony's touch, but she still dipped her upper body forward, closer to Eliana. "You do not get the easy out this time", she insisted, her voice quieter than before. "You do not get to play dead again and leave people to deal."

"Ziva, tateleh-"

"Don't you dare call me that", Ziva cut in, moving herself back to stand up straight in front of her mother.

Eliana just nodded her head and Tony couldn't help but notice, now closer to her face than before, that she was genuinely looking exhausted as hell. He noticed how she had placed a hand on her side where he suspected the injury to be and she took a deep, steadying breath as though trying to absorb her daughter's anger.

She nodded again. "I am still here", Eliana stated quietly, her eyes fixed on Ziva's.

"We'll put up protection at her door", Tony added, directing his words towards his partner as well. "She'll be safe."

Ziva purposely turned to face Tony and nodded her head. "If you think that my worrying for you in the past three hours has changed anything between us", she asserted, tilting her head to look at her mother again. "Then you are _very_ wrong to think that."

Eliana drew out a long breath. "I would have never- I am sorry, Ziva."

Ziva's eyebrows lifted. "That is where you wanted us? Back at the beginning, yes?"

"No", Eliana insisted. Her gaze fleetingly skipped to Tony and he aptly detected the unvoiced plea in them.

"Come on, Zee", Tony said, moving his palm to the small of her back.

When Ziva's eyes, still alight with anger and disappointment, whipped around to him, he just nodded his head. He had witnessed and even been on the receiving end of that look and similar ones often enough not to be thrown off anymore. He understood it very well. After all, this hadn't turned out the way they had planned. It had turned out much worse and Eliana hadn't exactly played the noninvolved part all along, apparently. However, he also understood Eliana, at least to the point of her lying there after someone had driven a knife into her body.

Ziva's look visibly softened and her mouth gaped for a moment as she allowed a slow breath to return her composure. When she focused back on Eliana, it was impossible for her mother, unadapt at reading Ziva's expressions even when she wasn't consciously suppressing anything, to know what her daughter was thinking or feeling, or both. Before Ziva turned around to leave the room, however, she mumbled a few hurried words in Hebrew.

Tony could discern two separate sentences in his partner's intonation, but he had no idea what she had said. As soon as Ziva had shut the door behind her, he turned back to Eliana. "The Synagogue two blocks from our apartment?", he checked.

"Yes", she answered. "The one with the park across from it."

"Yeah." Tony gave her an absentminded nod and produced his phone to forward McGee the address. They'd have to send a team to canvass the area for evidence.

"She told me to rest", Eliana said, supplying the translation to his formerly bewildered expression. "And that she would be back tomorrow."

"Ziva's right", Tony reiterated, slipping his phone into his jacket pocket.

"With everything?"

A small grin twisted Tony's mouth. "Worth thinking about, I'd say", he offered and he briefly patted the side of the mattress before he left the room as well, leaving Eliana with a vague nod.

"That went well", he commented casually as he walked over to Ziva, who was waiting for him at the other end of the corridor. Her eyes were still gleaming with emotion through the artificial light bestowed on them by overhead tubes.

"So stupid. So careless", she griped, ignoring his jibe.

"Ellipses. That's new", he quipped, testing her reaction. Once again, however, Ziva didn't react at all and just kept staring. So, he opted for a different approach. "Actually, I'd say it was the opposite."

"Opposite of stupid? Or opposite of careless?"

"It's what you'd have done, right? Take him on yourself. Take the risk", Tony elaborated softly. "A certain you, at least."

"Yes, it is what a _certain_ me would have done", Ziva admitted ruefully. "Why do you think I am this angry? I am angry I did not consider it. I should have known."

Tony studied his partner's features and finally felt unable to suppress his laugh. Without warning he dipped his body forward and captured her lips in a kiss. She didn't resist. "Home. Let's go home", he declared simply.

Ziva let out a low grunt and leaned against the wall instead of moving forward. "If we go now, can we stay in the car as long as it will take me to make sure that I will not start ranting to our kids about how stupid a thing this was of their grandmother to do?"

Tony snorted. "You think you'll take longer for this? We can stop at a drive-in for snacks, if you want."

This time it was Ziva who tilted her head to the side and caught with her lips the grin he was offering her.

* * *

><p>There was no better way to remind her that she was not only a daughter anymore than Tony's vigilant, cautious glances from the driver's seat and the palliative prospect of spending the rest of the day with her children. Given a text from Abby, they had eventually picked Tali up at hers and McGee's place. They arrived in time to witness Abby all dressed up in high-heeled, skirt-toting, hat-wearing glory for the girls' entertainment and had the hardest time wrenching their daughter away from Liora's merry grasp. It took Tony bringing out the big guns - pizza, living room and movie - to get Tali to comply with <em>'right now'<em> and not _'just ten twenty minutes, mommy'_. Facts be told, Ziva didn't mind at all. It was probably the very end to this day that both Tony and she needed.

After thanking Abby tenfold they made it to David's school right on time to pick him up from soccer practice. The little boy looked suspicious and they were sure that McGee must have been left to field a great many questions from their son. He also didn't quite buy their _'just because' _response to Tali informing him that they were in for a movie night. However, Tony skillfully u-turned the conversation, moving it to David's training and the fact the little boy was now playing a new position.

Eliana hadn't yet become such a fixture in their lives that the more adamant questions would have started right at the threshold of their apartment. The odd remark regarding the lack of Eliana's recent habit of making dinner was incidentally brushed aside by the delivery man's uncanny timing. And so they settled down in front of the couch, Tony and Ziva flanking their kids, with an extra-cheese assortment of isosceles triangles on steamed carton before them, covering the coffee table. The questions, however, eventually did come along a little later with Tony bringing over three bowls of ice cream.

Ziva accepted one of the small spoons from her partner, never having quite fallen in love with ice cream, even after all these years in the US. She had pulled Tali into her lap and was leaning around her daughter now in a bid to assist the little girl with their copious helping of flavor enhanced, icy goodness. They were in the middle of negotiating whether her mother was allowed another spoonful of Tali's strawberry favorite, when Ziva noticed David's pensive gaze and his covert glances towards the staircase. Tony and she shared a pointed look.

"Maybe grandma wants to watch the movie with us?", David asked tentatively.

It was hard to believe, for all his recent effort, that he would have been this welcoming of Eliana's involvement in one his most treasured family activities. So, perceptive as they were, they recognized the ploy in their son's question. Ziva, once again, received a look from her partner over the top of David's head and it was the look that told her she had to initiate the answering.

"Isn't grandma here?", Tali inquired then, her brows furrowing while she melted a particularly big scoop of ice cream on her tongue.

Ziva gave herself another moment of expectant silence, bracing herself against another one of those hard talks of which they were making an exceptional habit as of late. "No, your grandmother will not be here tonight", she answered vaguely, her eyes fixed mostly on her son.

"She staying somewhere else?", he went on.

"Kind of", Tony replied.

Tali frowned, not quite seeing the sense now that they were getting used to having her at their home. "Where?", she asked, abandoning her spoon for now.

Tony purposely stalled and Ziva took a deep breath that caused Tali to shift slightly in her position and look up at her mother with inquisitive eyes. "You see, your grandmother did a very brave thing today", Ziva started and moved the bowl to the table, so she could link her arms around her daughter. "She helped us get very close to the bad man today."

"And because of her we'll be able to catch him now", Tony proclaimed with a decided confidence in his tone that wasn't lost on Ziva.

David's eyes narrowed. "So, where is she?"

Tony dipped his body a little forward to face his son. "Well, she got a little hurt doing it."

"But she is fine", Ziva added quickly, feeling Tali's body tense up. "She just has to stay at the hospital for a few days now."

"Is she sleeping for a long time like you?", Tali asked in a small voice.

"No, princess. She's not as badly hurt as your mommy was", Tony assured her quickly, offering the little girl a reassuring smile. "She'll be okay again in no time."

"We were with her earlier today", Ziva reasserted and alternated her gaze between her kids. "She is awake and feeling fine."

"We can visit her tomorrow, if you want", Tony suggested, only briefly checking in with Ziva's nod.

David and Tali nodded their heads in unison; David's more pensive than enthusiastic, but a nod nonetheless. "I'll make her card tomorrow", Tali decided offhandedly as she reclaimed what had already become ice cream soup.

Ziva inclined her head to plant a kiss on the back of her daughter's unruly curls. "That is a wonderful idea, tateleh."

They returned to finishing their dessert and gradually their conversations drifted off into the less hard and less momentous areas. Tony and Ziva soon moved to clear away the remnants of their dinner while the kids started to bicker in front of the DVD shelf about which movie to watch tonight. And all the while Ziva couldn't help but feel assured - with every encouraging smile on Tony's part and with every _'mommy'_ and _'mom'_ accompanying a groan that urged her to settle this in favor of the one or the other kid - that between today's events surrounding her mother and what she had gone through more than thirty years ago, there was a whole world of a life changed for the better.


	46. Strike Three

**Chap 46 Strike Three**

**Wednesday, April 21****st**** 2021**

The purpose in his step was unmistakable. He was ready for this to be over and he was convinced that they were this close: _'this'_ being the small, small gap left between his thumb and forefinger when he squeezed them together really tightly. He really was ready for this to be over.

It was strange to think that it had only been twelve days, two days shy of a fortnight, that Eliana had lived with them. They hadn't been easy days, but they had been, literally, remarkable. Eliana's had been a marked absence this morning. The fifth chair at the kitchen table had been unoccupied and they had all been markedly aware of the reason.

Ziva and he had gone in separate cars again. He had come in early and left her to take the kids to school. He glanced at his watch now. She was probably at the hospital by now. _Ziva…_ This had to end also for her. He had to end this for her. He had spent his evening yesterday having a long video conference with Director Vance, while Ziva had taken care of the kids' goodnight routine. She had later traded places with him in order to write to her father.

This morning he had found the report of the forensics team on his desk and, to his utter frustration, they had found no substantial evidence at the scene in front of the Synagogue where Eliana had been attacked. They had only corroborated Eliana's story, the fact that there had been a fight and the blood stains to prove it. Nothing else. But this had to end; and it would.

With all this written on his face Tony stepped into the lab, where Abby was currently alternating her pensive gaze between the same image, a smaller one on her computer screen and a blown-up one on the plasma on the far wall. Tony stopped himself and cleared his throat.

"Tony", Abby greeted, sounding almost surprised. Before he could utter a request, however, she had dipped her head to the side and continued in a hurried breath, "How's Ziva? How're you? How's Eliana?"

Tony was pretty sure McGee had shared the gist of the answers to all of her questions after their late-evening phone conversation yesterday. "I'm okay. Ziva's okay. She's at the hospital right now with Eliana", he replied curtly.

Abby bit her lip. "How'd the kids take it?"

Tony chuckled softly and Abby didn't fail to pick up on the sardonic note in it. "If there's one thing they've learned in all of this, it's to put on a brave face", he replied ruefully.

"Even if they shouldn't have to."

Tony threw his head to the side and motioned towards the image displayed on her computer. "That's why I need some results here", he insisted.

Abby followed his gaze, nodded and beckoned him over. "So, Tim gave me the fabric that Eliana supposedly ripped off Kadeer's clothes when she was attacked", she narrated, changing tabs to that of a chemical analysis. "I ran it and first, there was nothing really there. So, I tweaked around a bit and voilà."

She indicated a couple of long, complex names at the top of the screen. Tony squinted his eyes together as though that would help him understand, but ultimately he was left to shake his head. "And what's that exactly?", he asked.

"I found traces of a specific mash-up of synthetic chemicals that are set free during a particular method of cutting and fitting small parts in a number of electronic devices that run on solar energy", Abby explained quickly.

Tony cocked his head to the side. "Come on. Help me out here, Abs."

A smile flittered across her face. "There's only one company in the area that uses this method", she exclaimed triumphantly and pointed at Tony's pocket where she knew he kept his phone and where he would find the message with the address she had just forwarded him.

Tony leaned over and planted a kiss on Abby's temple, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We got him", he declared.

Then he whipped around and headed back to the elevator. He pulled out his cell phone and settled in for a ride to the uppermost floor and Director Vance's office: He had an op to get approved.

* * *

><p>Ziva arrived at Eliana's hospital room just as a nurse was exiting. After she had pointedly inquired about Ziva's relation to any of the three patients in 506, Ziva just as pointedly asked for information on her mother's status. While Eliana's vitals appeared to be in order, Ziva was a little surprised to hear the nurse launch into a tirade about rising numbers of muggings and violent attacks in the area.<p>

As it turned out, Eliana had adopted a nicely framed, mugging-related and sympathy-inducing story about her coming-to-be in the hospital with a stab wound. Ziva was still inwardly busy shaking her head while the nurse obviously expected her to agree. Eventually, Ziva offered a few strongly toned words of disbelief before excusing herself and pushing through the door. Eliana was sitting up, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and staring at the wall across from her.

"Boker tov", Ziva greeted as she approached her mother's bed.

Eliana's head turned at once and she quickly tried to withdraw the smile that had unconsciously settled on her face. "Boker tov", she returned quietly.

"How are you feeling?", Ziva asked, taking a quick survey of the monitors and the chart hanging from the footend of the bed.

"Fine", she replied instinctively, only to be met by her daughter's narrowed eyes. Ziva had seldom appreciated just how annoyingly nondescript that answer could be. "They redressed my wound this morning and frankly, I had worse."

A sound _'Ha'_ slipped from Ziva's lips as she came to stand beside her. "Tell me about it", she said. Her gaze drifted off, but before long her attention was reclaimed by the skeptical look boring into her. "What?"

Eliana shook her head, but vaguely. "I don't know, I-", she started, her voice soft, "I might have been expecting a lecture from you. Maybe anger. Or stubborn silence. I would think that you have become someone who punishes with silence."

Ziva chuckled slightly at the assertion, but didn't allow the smile to linger on her face too long. "I cannot change you or what you have done", she declared simply, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Eli, he- I could have never changed him. Who he was. To me, to us. We have the parents that we have. To think different takes up a lot of energy that I do not have. Not anymore."

Eliana's gaze dropped to the hard-boiled whiteness of the sheets as she nodded her head. It rang very true. "I would have always found a way to do it this way", she admitted, her eyes only briefly landing on Ziva's.

Ziva offered her a sigh, untangling her arms. "David and Tali cannot change who Tony and I are either. It appears to be an endless circle", she remarked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Eliana's chest heaved with a soft laugh. "Oh, my love, they are much better off with the parents they have got", she tried to assure her.

"We will have to see, yes?", Ziva replied as she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She took it out to find a message from Tony. It was simple, five words; simple enough that looking at the preview sufficed. Eliana knowingly caught the look in Ziva's eyes, the way her face was falling back on itself. "I am sorry, I have to go", she asserted absently.

"Ziva."

Ziva slipped her phone back into her pocket. When she looked back up at her mother, there was a real smile straddling her face. "The kids have been asking about you", she said. "We will come visit with them in the evening."

Eliana returned her smile, if only briefly. "I am looking forward to it, but- You have Kadeer, yes?" Ziva gave a wordless nod. "Ziva, please. Go home, take Tony. Get your children and let others take him out."

Ziva's eyes narrowed defiantly. "This is our case-"

"No, this is your family. It is far more than a case", Eliana held, trying to sit up a little more. Ziva reached out a hand to help and stop her at the same time. "This is what Ducky and I wanted to keep from happening."

"Ducky and you?", Ziva exclaimed sharply, her eyebrows shooting up. "Ducky's plan, you were in on it?"

"In on it." Eliana laughed slightly. "Ducky is far more capable than I am. But yes, he was kind enough to take my thoughts into consideration. I did not want you to have to go there."

Ziva scoffed. "After all this, you could not have been more forthcoming with the truth?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Trust is built on truth."

"Yes, and I am telling you the truth now, Ziva", Eliana shot back, her voice hardening. "To keep you safe."

"Safe from what?", Ziva snapped. "I am a trained federal agent in a team of federal agents. I have been doing this since I was seventeen years old. I will be fine."

Eliana shook her head adamantly. "I am not worried about keeping you safe from physical harm. I am worried about keeping you safe from guilt."

"What are-"

"Ziva, remember that I lived your life. I lived it for the worse, but I lived it", Eliana explained and her tone softened noticeably. Ziva recognized the look in her eyes, so well. She hadn't cared to see it before, but this was it: the look of a mother. "I know guilt when I see it. And I know that, deep down, you struggle. Your memories are also the memories of guilt."

Ziva stopped herself from throwing back a retort, biting her bottom lip instead. She waited for a moment, but then just shook her head and turned to leave.

"Tell me I am wrong", Eliana called after her, her eyes briefly darting to the other occupants in the room and how they were all staring at them now. She didn't care. "Tell me. Tell me that I have lost all perspective as a mother. Tell me and I can let you go."

She could see the muscles in Ziva's shoulders clench and how she built herself up to full, daunting height as she whipped back around. "What do you want from me?", she growled, trying to keep the volume of her voice in check.

"To spare yourself the guilt of misguided loyalty", Eliana threw back. "Let others take care of it."

"This is not about loyalty. It is our case."

"This is your family."

"I am making the choice", Ziva declared.

Eliana shook her head. "That makes it even harder."

A part of Ziva knew; she knew because she had been thinking the same thing all day yesterday and all night, for hours, lying awake in her bed with Tony snoring beside her. But she wasn't ready to say this now, or do this now. Not with Eliana.

"We are just going to take him in", Ziva insisted.

Eliana allowed herself a sigh and nodded. "You do what you think you have to do", she conceded.

"Who are you to talk anyway?", Ziva asked and her tone wasn't accusing. It was gentle, maybe even a tad disappointed, or calloused against what could have come out of this conversation if things had been any different.

"You are right. I am in no position to talk", Eliana admitted, a rueful smile on her face. "So, you find someone who can."

Their eyes were still locked, but Ziva didn't respond. Instead, she just recommenced her stride out of the room without looking back but once.

* * *

><p>Gibbs saw her before anyone else did and right in the middle of McGee filling him in he walked off, out of the bullpen, to meet her halfway from the elevator. Ziva lifted her gaze as he built himself up in front of her.<p>

"Your call to make, Ziver", he proffered.

Ziva turned towards the bullpen, finding both Tony and McGee stare back at her. In Tony's eyes she could see that he agreed with Gibbs, that it was her word that counted.

"We do it", she ascertained.

"Are you sure-"

"It is my call, yes?", Ziva stopped him and Gibbs nodded, leading her back to join the other two.

They only waited for Ziva to deposit her backpack on her desk, knowing she would need it soon, before McGee started to recount Abby's findings and Tony followed up with detailing the op that was apparently already long under way. Tony reclaimed the clicker from McGee to conjure up a model of the factory grounds they were targeting. He told them about the covert sweep of the two production halls and transport fleet orchestrated by a joint effort of NCIS and OSHA earlier today. Since they had come up empty, they had narrowed down the target to a largely abandoned adjunct building that connected to rail tracks and, beyond that, to a street at the back. They agreed that it made quite the sensible hidey hole. A team was set to secure the back, leaving Kadeer with only one exit.

"Assuming that he is still there", Ziva cautioned, having taken everything in thus far with a blank expression and arms crossed over her chest.

"According to Ducky we can assume that", McGee countered. "He said that even though he failed in his first attempt on Eliana, Kadeer won't even consider the possibility that we'd now have anything on him."

"Snares? Trap doors?", Gibbs asked.

"Ducky said we can safely rule that out as well. Explosives, any kind of tricky self-protection and stuff like that", Tony explained. "Conceited SOB. Goes hand in hand with thinking that we're a bunch of incompetent dumbasses."

"Colorful", Ziva remarked flatly.

Tony winked at her, before turning back to the plasma screen and zooming in on two spots on adjoining buildings that were situated at different angles in relation to their target, were high up in comparison and equally gained from an unobstructed view on where they planned the real action to take place.

"We'll cover the op from here and here", he narrated, marking those spots with two brightly red arrows. Ziva rolled her eyes. She just knew that Tony had probably had McGee add the arrows at the last minute for purposes of added momentum.

"Sniper posts", she realized, regarding her partner almost skeptically.

"We not have two marksmen on the team?", he retorted plainly. He looked alternately at her and Gibbs, eliciting a nod from his former boss and, in turn, causing Ziva to frown.

"So, you and McGee will be on the ground", she deduced.

"Because we want Kadeer alive", Tony replied. "That's right."

"That's not-"

"It's a good setup. It'll work", Tony cut her off immediately and with an air of finality as he shut off the plasma. He waited for Ziva to issue a nod before he stepped around her, his hand purposely grazing her fingers as he did so.

Tony and Gibbs were already at the elevator, when McGee came up to Ziva. She had stepped back behind her desk without really needing to and McGee just knew. "He's got a good reason for separating you two", he said softly.

Ziva nodded. "I know."

"I'm not you, but I'll have his back", he went on. "Don't worry."

That drew a smile on her face. "I am not", she assured him, because he needed to be assured of that.

McGee returned her smile, nodded towards the elevator, but didn't wait for her either as he headed after his former and current boss. Ziva's mind had already launched into a list of specifics to remember down in the armory when she was issued the sniper rifle and, grabbing her backpack, her glance landed on the most prominent picture mounted on her desk: the one of Tali, David and Tony. Her gaze lingered on it for a second before she heard her name called, distantly, and she was jerked back to the present to follow her team.

* * *

><p>The afternoon had settled in firmly around them. It had been a while since Gibbs and Ziva had reported their secured positions back to the other two, who were staking out the targeted building with a team at the outer fence, concealed and in waiting. Ziva hardly remembered the last time she had been in this position, lying on the ground, a rifle propped up in front of her and her proficient eyes jumping between target area, the parameter screen and the flag on the building nearby that moved faintly to a breeze if only to appease her lingering skepticism about numbers. She was still a certified marksman, she was licensed and still trained, but it had been a while since those particular skills had been called for.<p>

Tony had just checked in with them again. McGee could hear the impatience growing in the breaths his boss was sucking in ever more loudly. But his computer couldn't be made to hurry up, and running seven different programs simultaneously wasn't helping matters.

"There's definitely someone there", McGee exclaimed then, indicating the thermo feed on his screen.

Tony gave it a quick glance. "Can we get more accuracy?", he asked.

McGee tilted his head a bit. "Would take a while."

"We don't have a while", Tony asserted, his fingers grazing the gun holstered at his side. "Let's get going."

They got out of the car and Tony gave the movement order, at once putting Gibbs and Ziva on high alert. He motioned for the two teams of heavily armed agents to get in position, watching as they moved in on the building and towards the back from different angles. Then he gave McGee and himself the go-ahead.

With guns drawn and sporting bulletproof gear they approached the front entrance. There was a stack of four-way pellets to the right of the door. Tony briefly checked in with the teams at the back, nodding his head visibly for both Gibbs and Ziva to see. He and McGee were closing in from opposing sides, poised to secure the door from both the left and the right, when McGee was alerted to the handle moving.

"Tony", he murmured.

Tony nodded and took a few steps back. Training their guns on the moving door, Tony called out, "Kadeer Haswari! Get your hands in the air and move out slowly."

The door was shoved wide open by the tip of a foot and out stepped a dark-haired man with torn clothes and a handgun sticking out prominently on his right side. His arms were barely raised to his shoulders, his left even lower than his right, but a small smile was straddling his face.

"And you are?", he inquired calmly. His voice was deep and laden with a heavy Middle Eastern accent.

"NCIS", McGee replied. "Drop your gun on the ground, step away from it and put those hands in the air where we can see them."

Kadeer, however, did nothing of the sort. He just nodded his head. "Ziva", he scoffed, peering alternately into McGee's and Tony's eyes.

"There's an arrest warrant out on your name", Tony clarified, consciously blocking out the name of his wife. "And it's a long one."

"We're here to take you into custody", McGee added.

Kadeer slowly lowered his arms. "I do not think so."

In the fracture of a second his right hand had grabbed the handle of his gun and he had fired a shot into Tony's direction. Another shot. Tony fell to the ground. McGee pulled the trigger twice before diving behind the pallets just as another shot blared. Then another one. McGee lunged forward, his gun aimed at the spot where Kadeer had been standing. But his forefinger was in no need to move. No one was standing there anymore.

Ziva released a breath. She had fired a shot when Kadeer had raised the gun, but she didn't know if she had hit him too. But Kadeer was down. Someone had hit. Or more than one. She moved the telescopic lens around the targeted perimeter, abounded in agents. She saw McGee holster his gun and thrust himself forward and onto his knees. She followed his movement and saw Tony on the ground, lying face-down.

* * *

><p>His body was almost entirely covered when the doors swooshed aside, a sound not unlike a sigh, as it granted them access to the autopsy room. He was lying on the first stretcher, the one right in front of them. They spread out into a four-headed phalanx. Silent.<p>

Ziva's eyes briefly landed on the incision on his left shoulder where her mother's knife had penetrated the flesh and torn through the muscles. Before she could move her gaze to the face of the man that had haunted her and her family for the better part of almost two months, Palmer had veiled his corpse with white-washed linen.

"So", Tony drew out, his voice amplified by the silence in the room, "He's dead?"

He mostly just elicited his own breathy chuckle, but instantly grabbed his left side for the pain he consequently inflicted upon himself. Ziva cast a swift sideways glance at her partner, catching his eyes and the humor-clad relief so evident in them. Kadeer's bullet had torn through the outer layer of Tony's bulletproof vest and left him with a marked bruise to prove it.

According to Palmer the bruise probably reached as far as Tony's ribs. Tony had laughed at that, had cracked a joke about serially making himself hold out on sex, and had then sought for puppy dog-eyed sympathy with Ziva. She had ignored him then, returning to the incident report she had started in order to occupy herself while they had waited for Palmer, but Tony had noticed her mouth gaping as she inhaled deeply in a bid to compose herself. When Palmer had left, she had stepped up to him, planted an almost violent kiss on his lips and told him she loved him; only waiting for his likewise confession before leaving him to get dressed again.

Ducky followed Ziva's glance, shaking his head as he stepped up to the stretcher beside his former protégé. "You were very lucky, Tony", he asserted. "The calluses and abrasions on his left hand indicate that Kadeer was in fact left-handed. When Eliana stabbed him, she led the knife with her right hand and thrust it into his left shoulder."

Ducky had turned towards Palmer halfway through his account and was demonstrating the movement against the younger man's torso. "The wound was deep enough to leave him majorly incapacitated", Palmer went on. "He had no choice but to lead his gun with his weaker, right hand."

"And missed", McGee added.

"Death shot?", Gibbs asked, his eyes fixed on Palmer.

Palmer nodded. "He was hit four times in total", he explained, vaguely indicating their location on the body beneath the cloth. "Given the weapons log of all agents involved in the operation and the evidence pulled on scene, Abby was able to designate all the hits and misses."

"Dr. Palmer and I were further able to determine the kill shot", Ducky took over, sharing a glance with the younger ME. "This will all be written up in our report. If you wish to know, you are free to read it and find out. But tell you, we will not."

Silence engulfed the room for a few beats, and then a few more. However, their gazes were barely skeptical, maybe weary if at all.

"Almost seems a little too easy in the end, doesn't it?", Tony remarked, taking an unconscious step toward the stretcher.

"It was entirely his decision to step up", Ducky said, eyeing Tony over his glasses.

"Suicide by cop", McGee clarified.

Ducky nodded. "Something to this effect, yes."

Tony's gaze moved up and to the spot where he knew Kadeer's face was hidden. "He could've shot Eliana from afar", he mused, directing his words at no one in particular. "Spared himself the trouble."

"Maybe that wasn't intimate enough for him", Palmer surmised, finding Ducky's agreement. It was enough to make Tony step back into line.

"My mother killed his father at close range", Ziva offered.

Gibbs nodded. "Is what it is."

Ziva mirrored his nod. "Over."

With that she left.

* * *

><p>He had no idea where everybody had gone. Well, almost. He knew exactly where he would find Ziva. Gibbs; Gibbs was probably either already home or on a coffee hunt. He certainly was still missing his report. McGee, he suspected, had withdrawn to Abby's lab; they both seemed in need of those private moments after field ops like that. Tony was on his way out of the bullpen, when he noticed Vance peering at him from the platform halfway down the stairs.<p>

"Director", he called out, halting in his tracks. "Was just heading to your office."

Vance's eyes narrowed and he grabbed the railing with one hand. "You already briefed me, DiNozzo. When I signed your report?"

"Yeah, I know. I was just-" Tony nodded. "I was thinking that the team needs a day off. You know. To stomach all that's happened. Recharge."

Vance offered him a lopsided smile. "Eliana's doing okay?"

"She got off lucky. We all did", Tony asserted, adding more quietly, "Again."

Vance nodded. "Actually, I was coming to see you about something too. Jackie just reminded me that I never gave you and Agent David your wedding present."

Tony snorted, a smile twisting his lips. "We're not married, Leon."

Vance laughed. "You take two days, DiNozzo. Make 'em count", he declared, placing his right foot pointedly on the upper step.

"Director, Eli David-"

"I will take care of Eli for now", Vance assured him. "No need to see you till Monday."

"And I'm all about following orders, Director", Tony replied, leaving the squadroom with the smile still alight on his face.

* * *

><p>True to his expectations Tony found Ziva out in the afternoon sun. The days were getting longer and the sun really was there to prove it. He didn't remember realizing how sunny a day it really was before now. He walked over to her. She was perched on the wall across from the swing set. He appreciated the fact that its off-key reddish green reminded him so readily of David and Tali.<p>

"I filed the report", he informed her, taking a seat by her side. "We're not gonna look."

Ziva nodded, not looking at him. "No, we are not."

He studied her face from the side for a while and contemplation was written all over it: in her faintly narrowed eyes, her pursed lips, the hands she had folded in her lap. It was the dangerous kind of contemplation, though, the somber one. A few feet from them people were ordering coffee-to-go and sandwiches. There was a little girl tugging at her mother's sleeve on the other side of the footpath. They seemed so far away from where Ziva appeared to be.

"You okay?"

Her eyes downcast, Ziva gave a soft laugh. "Eliana was right", she replied quietly. "I thought it was gone, but it is not."

Tony frowned. "What is gone?"

"Two years ago you questioned my reaction to Niv", she said, finally moving her gaze to meet his. "Why I just let him go."

Tony nodded. "You didn't want to feel angry anymore."

"I did not want to feel like I needed to seek revenge anymore", she clarified. "Like I needed to fight for everything and everyone else before ever fighting for myself."

"And you didn't", he asserted confidently.

"That is why I thought it might be gone. But today-"

"You did what you had to do", he cut in. "We all did. It's the job."

"I know that." Ziva nodded. "But maybe that is not how it should be."

The lines on Tony's forehead deepened. "What are you saying? You want to quit-"

"No, that is not what I am saying", Ziva countered quickly and reached out to put a hand on his arm. A sigh emanated from her lips. It was true, even if she entertained that possibility from time to time. "My father was right. If he had told me about my mother, there is a good chance that I would have gone looking for her. Maybe I would have left you and the children to chase after her. Who knows what I would have done to get information, to get to her? Who I would have become...again." She swallowed hard, dipping her head to the side. "Can you see now what I am saying?"

Tony shook his head decidedly. "There's no way to know what you would've done. That's pointless guessing, Ziva."

"But to think that it could have happened, is enough."

Tony turned his body towards her and cupped her face with both hands. "You are good. You are a good person", he chanted, his eyes intently fixed on hers. "You do your job. You deal with the consequences. You go on."

Ziva curled her fingers around his hands, a small smile appearing on her face. "That is what I have been trying to do. From the moment I stepped back into this life, I have been trying to really deal with who I am", she said. "I have been trying to fight for choosing who I want to be. But to think what could have-"

"Ziva", he whispered, cutting her off. He leaned in, his tone soft and quiet. "Look into your kids' eyes. Look how proud they are of you, how much they love you. And me. I couldn't be prouder. I couldn't be more in love. That is who you are, and no one else. Isn't this who you want to be?"

"Yes", she affirmed. "But I am…_scared_, Tony. Scared of disappointing you."

"You could never disappoint me."

Her smile grew. "Scared that I could go back to who I never wanted to be", she continued. "Do you think I do not feel that guilt anymore? That I do not feel what I felt in that camp when you found me?"

"No, I know you do. I know that you…or a part of you will always think that your pain is your punishment", he admitted ruefully. "And I know that I can't talk you out of thinking like that. I can't make you see what I see, but I'll never get tired of trying. You know why?"

Ziva's gaze slipped, dropping to the concrete beneath their feet. She shook her head.

"Because you made me see myself through your eyes. The man I could be. You made me want to be him", he declared and with it made her look back up at him.

"You are, my love." She guided his hands away from her face and entwined their fingers.

He smiled at the gesture. "The woman you are now, she is who ten-year-old Ziva wanted to be", he insisted. "She's not flawless. She has many flaws, actually." He chuckled and made her to do the same, inadvertently. "But she's more beautiful because of them. She made mistakes. But she owned them, like tenfold. She deserves to be happy."

Ziva moved a hand away from his and drew it through his hair, her eyes narrowing. "Does she deserve to be so loved?"

Tony chuckled again. "You have no idea."

He leaned over to catch her in a kiss, their hands once again entwined between them. They allowed silence to linger for a while after they had pulled back. It gave Tony enough time to realize that the little girl had finally persuaded her mother to take her to the swing set. Her happy squeals were almost contagious and, looking over, he noticed how Ziva's eyes had landed on the pair as well and a smile flittered across her face.

"I want to see myself the way you and the kids see me. I want to see myself that way all the time", she admitted, turning back to her partner. "And I _am_ trying."

"I know you are."

"But I might never be done trying."

Tony nodded and lifted their joined hands up in front of their faces, smiling. "Your hands in mine."

They met in another kiss and Tony, for now, was satisfied to receive a smile and a nod and that her eyes had lost some of that somber streak. Their grip on each other lessened over time as they sat silently. The little girl and her mother had eventually moved on and Tony could tell that Ziva's thoughts were still direly preoccupied. While he had become kind of an expert in Ziva-reading over the years, it was an obvious conclusion this time. Because he had spotted the stumbling attempt at a stealth attack five feet ago and Ziva, had she been fully there, would have probably done the same; only like three feet earlier than him. He didn't want to look too often or too suspiciously in case he alerted his partner, but he briefly caught his daughter's gaze. Tony offered her the go-ahead when he let his eyes flicker over to Ziva. Tali nodded her head.

The little girl took the last few steps in a rush and before Ziva could turn, Tali had covered her mother's eyes with her little hands from behind.

"Who's it?", she demanded, excitement leaking from every syllable.

Ziva had been visibly startled, but was laughing nonetheless. She placed her hands over her daughter's. They were so small, she realized, so soft, so innocent. "Tali", she exclaimed, nodding her head assuredly.

"Who's Tali?", the little girl asked, laughing out loud at her own joke.

Ziva removed their hands and turned herself around, her lips landing on her daughter's for a kiss. "My perfect little angel", she declared.

Tali giggled and threw her arms around Ziva's neck. Tony, from behind the five-year-old's back, could see the expression that was hidden from their daughter's view. He could see how Ziva hid her face in Tali's loose curls and took a deep, calming breath. She kissed the side of her daughter's face a few times, holding her close. It wasn't until she had settled the five-year-old in her lap that Tali drew back from her mother a little and looked up at her with big brown, brilliantly innocent eyes.

"Shalom, mommy", she greeted with bright grin, obviously proud of herself for pulling off her plan.

Ziva dipped her head forward, their foreheads touching. "Shalom, tateleh."

Tali made no move to shift in her mother's tight and comforting embrace, merely settling her head against Ziva's chest and, so unlike her, remaining completely still.

Tony let them have their moment. By God, they needed it; and he wasn't shy to admit that he adored the sight. After a while, however, he was starting to feel playful. Narrowing his eyes and shifting a bit forward in his position to regard his little girl more closely, he whispered, "Don't I get my hello?"

Tali grinned at him through a semi-perforate veil of locks. "Hello, daddy."

"And a hug?"

Tali pressed her lips into a thin line. "Sorry, daddy, but mommy needs it more", she sighed and lifted her hand to pat her mother's cheek.

Tony and Ziva shared an amused look as Ziva took a hold of their daughter's hand and planted a kiss on in. "She does?", Tony checked and Tali nodded her head decidedly. "How do you know?"

The little girl shrugged. "Donno."

"Well, if that's so, I'll have to get my own hug." Tony threw out his arms for added effect before he wrapped them around both Ziva and Tali, planting a smacking kiss on the little girl's head. He pulled back only slightly when Tali started to complain about getting squished.

"I guess she found you", Abby commented when she arrived at the scene with a big smile on her face and Liora perched on her hip.

Getting back to the office, Tony and Ziva had found matching black post-its stuck to their computers saying that Abby had picked up both of the girls and was keeping them occupied in the lab for a while.

"Yes, she did", Ziva affirmed quietly, smiling at her daughter and receiving a bright smile in return.

"Thanks, Abs", Tony said. "Owe you another one."

"We're always even when you bring my husband back in one piece", she countered, her eyes darting towards her daughter. When she looked back at them, she knew that they knew exactly what she was talking about. "You on your way to the hospital now?"

Ziva glanced at Tony's watch and nodded. "In a while. We will pick up David on the way."

* * *

><p>When Tony and Ziva had recounted the PG-rated version of the conclusion of the latest bad man-story, cheers and smiles and agitated requests for the upcoming weeks had filled the car. As they were now approaching the hospital, however, those smiles and the echo of those cheers were waning. Evidently, hospitals didn't sit well with their children. They were taking after their father in that respect. But Ziva couldn't help but feel a little guilty too. It was safe to say that walking down similar corridors to find their mother unconscious and hooked up to noisy machines hadn't exactly been conducive to attaining any kind of peace with hospitals.<p>

Tali was the first to react, reaching her arms up at Ziva the second they stepped foot beyond the entrance. Sharing a look with Tony, Ziva picked her up and planted a reassuring kiss on the little girl's temple as she settled in close. In turn, it took David only until a patient was wheeled past them in the second corridor to move so close to Tony that putting a reassuring arm around his son's shoulder was a given.

Eliana's face visibly lit up when the four of them entered. After a quick survey of the room, Tali's grip around her mother's neck lessened and Ziva proceeded to put the five-year-old back down. David had obviously chosen to let his little sister take the lead on this, stopping hard in his tracks when Tali skidded to a halt halfway in and rushed back to Ziva's side.

"Mommy, my card", she urged, snapping her little fingers open and shut on top of her thumb.

Ziva quickly pulled the item in question from her bag and handed it to her daughter. Holding the bright yellow greeting card-sized and twice-folded piece of paper out in front of her like a shield, Tali bounced over to Eliana's bed, David following close behind.

"Shalom", Eliana greeted, smiling at them.

"I made you a card, see?", Tali burst out eagerly.

Before Eliana could reach for it, though, Tali had unfolded the paper and was pointing out the signs and symbols on it. She informed her about the curls and lines that formed differently shaped cyphers and how they were wishing her to get better soon and that she could come back home with them. That, in particular, drew Eliana's gaze towards Tony and Ziva, who were hanging a little back. She caught sight of Ziva's hand clasped in Tony's and Tony leaning over to whisper into her ear. Whatever he said, it made her daughter look over, fix her eyes on her children and nod, smiling. Eliana might have been wrong on many counts, but she had not been wrong to assume that her daughter had found somebody to lean on.

Tali ended her narration with the wobbly six-pointed star, for which she had used her bracelet as a template, she said, and the meaning of the green-blue scene of nature she had fit into the corner. "So you can see the grass and a river from in here", the little girl explained. "'Cause hospitals are nasty places."

"But they help make people better, yes?", Eliana countered.

"Maybe your grandma would like to take a look at her card now?", Ziva suggested, crouching down to Tali's level. Tali nodded and finally relinquished her masterpiece.

"Todah", Eliana said, smiling as she held her granddaughter's gift almost reverently. "I shall keep it and take it with me wherever I go."

Tali offered her an enthusiastic grin before puffing out her chest and turning back to Ziva. "See? Now she always knows we want good things for her even when she goes away again", she declared decidedly.

Ziva ran a hand through her daughter's hair and kissed her forehead. "Yes, she will, tateleh", she replied, briefly looking at her mother over the top of Tali's head.

"Mom said what you did was really brave", David threw in suddenly, his eyes locking with his grandmother's. He was hovering closer to the footend of her bed, regarding the scene with pensive eyes.

"She did?", Eliana asked, unable to keep herself from doing so.

"Mommy and daddy got the bad man 'cause you helped 'em", Tali added quickly, alternating her proud gaze between her parents and her grandmother.

Eliana looked up at Tony, who was standing behind Ziva. He nodded. It really was over.

* * *

><p><em>Not the end. Two chapters left.<em>


	47. Sans Time

_Penultimate chapter. Expert the finale at the end of this week. Enjoy._

* * *

><p><strong>Chap 47 Sans Time<strong>

**Thursday, April 22****nd**** 2021**

Showered, kempt, not nearly as shaved as the men in those macho razor commercials, and wearing simple jeans and a turtleneck, Tony stepped into the living room. Earlier and right at this venue Ziva and he had fought the kids for the longest time on what they perceived was sheer injustice: that their parents were home for the day and they were still supposed to go to school. The real unfairness of that setup was only apparent to them, however. For compensation's sake they had taken them to school together, though, and Ziva was now in the midst of preparing a big lunch. After all, they had promised to pick them both up as well: no afternoon care, no homework groups, no substitutes.

Passing the shelf on his way to the kitchen, Tony was startled to find a new addition adorning one of the upper racks. It was a picture of Eliana: a younger Eliana, holding a bouquet of _gagea dayana_, and a younger Ziva, toting what he guessed was a ballerina's outfit. The tutu was a giveaway. Ziva must have pulled it from one of the albums, framed it and put it up earlier today. He didn't remember Ziva ever having done anything to reference her childhood dancing. He certainly didn't remember Ziva having ever referenced her mother in too blatant a manner anywhere either - until recently.

When he entered the kitchen, Ziva's back was turned towards him and she was quietly humming along to the music emanating from the radio. He couldn't suppress a small chuckle, it seemed so mundane. He jiggled his keys unnecessarily, causing her to turn around and flash him a smile.

"I'm on my way to the office, get some paperwork done and talk to Duvall", he explained as he walked up to her. He leaned against the counter by her side. "And then I'll pick up Eliana on my way home."

Ziva nodded, not lifting her eyes just yet from where she was cutting up some tomatoes. About an hour ago they had gotten a call from Eliana's doctor, informing them that he would have been happy to release her today rather than tomorrow. Eliana herself, however, had declined and had also refused to call them by her own accord. Then he had gone on to say that, personally, he didn't want any patient to overstay their recuperation in the hospital and that healing was greatly supported by familiar surroundings. They had both balked at the wording - _'familiar surroundings'_ sounding a little off to both of them -, but they agreed to ignore Eliana and come get her anyway.

"There's a new picture", he observed casually, his eyes fixed on her face and reaction.

"There is", Ziva replied nonchalantly, adding the tomatoes to the colorful assortment already sizzling in the pot.

Tony cocked his head a little to the side. "Just a whim?"

Ziva shrugged and wiped her hands on the rag she had tucked around her belt. "She is missing", she declared, bracing a hand against the counter railing and regarding him with raised eyebrows.

"The picture Eli gave you in Haifa is hanging up in the study", Tony reminded her. "She's in that."

"She is missing down here", Ziva clarified. "This is where we spend most of our time. There should be a picture down here."

His lips curled upward in a soft smile and he leaned over for a kiss. "I agree", he said as he pulled back and pushed himself off the counter.

He was halfway out of the kitchen, when Ziva called him back. "Tony?"

"Yes, dear?", he replied, turning back around with the smile from before still alight.

She walked up to him, stretched a little and caught his lips in another kiss, deeper this time, holding on for longer. Long enough to make him reach around her to the small of her back and pull her even closer. When they drew apart he had forwarded his smile to her face and it made him go back for another peck, and another one to the corner of her mouth.

"I love you", Ziva declared simply, drawing her fingertips over the side of his face.

Tony tightened his grip on his keys. He had to go, he really did, but he could have thought of about fifty shades of things he would have preferred doing right now.

"I love you too."

* * *

><p>Gibbs didn't notice him until only four treads separated him from the basement floor and his stride promptly slowed. "Haven't been down here in a while", he observed as he reached the foot of the stairs, eyeing him probingly.<p>

"Had to wait till you'd gotten rid of the surprise, didn't I?", Tony retorted, returning the chisel he had been playing around with for the past ten minutes to its rightful place.

Gibbs lifted his head a little. "Got a couch for that."

Tony gave a small nod, surveying the room. Things hadn't changed much down here over the years. Most of the change had been prompted by the kids. Tools had been hung higher, there were actual glasses on the shelf above the workbench and he was pretty sure the radio had been fixed. He placed an empty jar and a mug next to each other in the middle of the workbench and drummed his fingers along their rims a few times, not looking at Gibbs.

"Got any last-minute advice for tomorrow?", Tony asked then, right into the silence. "Father of the bride and all."

A lopsided grin flittered across Gibbs' face and his gaze briefly wandered off. "I'm not giving her away", he said. "Not starting anything tomorrow. Just celebrating what you got."

"So, no advice?"

Gibbs shook his head. "You don't need my advice, Tony", he insisted. "You got it figured out by now."

A small laugh slipped past Tony's tense lips and he took a step forward, aiming for different lighting. "Don't know about that", he scoffed.

Gibbs slightly dipped his head to the side. "You hadn't it figured out before and I called you on it. But you got it now", he reiterated. "And you know it too."

"It does feel very full circle-y", Tony remarked, a grin settling momentarily on his face. "I mean, it's never gonna be all perfect. We make mistakes. I make mistakes. Screw up. Go on. Feels like the big mistakes are kinda in the past now, though. Never take anything for granted, right? From the rulebook for bumbling idiots."

"You take the rules that matter to you. You make your own code where you need it", Gibbs declared and came over to Tony's spot in the far corner. He gave him a pointed look before reaching behind him to retrieve the toolbox for which he had initially come down here.

Tony appreciated the irony in the juxtaposition of the _'Do it your way'_ feel of the moment and those old blue eyes boring into him. He watched silently as Gibbs turned around and headed back to the staircase, slowly mounting a few treads before inclining his head and peering back at Tony.

"I didn't always do right by you. No father ever does", Gibbs admitted.

Tony took a few steps forward, revealing the soft smile twisting his lips. "Tell me about it."

"You don't quit", Gibbs said, his eyebrows lifting ever so slightly. "Always makes you the better man."

* * *

><p>Ziva pulled up in front of Tali's school near a Japanese cherry tree that stood on the other side of the fence. She usually aimed for a parking spot close to that tree. She didn't even know why. It was a strange routine. But she didn't need to re-evaluate and ponder each and every routine step she was taking, not anymore. Kadeer Haswari was dead. She wasn't sure, his dossier certainly didn't say anything to that effect, but she assumed that Kadeer had died without leaving a spouse, without leaving any offspring. In the end, now, they had probably eradicated one last link to her brother Ari and it would now seem even more like he, a member of the Haswari family, had never even existed.<p>

Ziva studied herself in the rearview mirror, pushing her sunglasses farther up and into her hair to reveal the lines that were finding a permanent residence on her forehead. She almost chuckled at the thought. Well, she wasn't getting any younger either. Yanking the reflective surface away from her, she got out and headed for the front gate. She had heard the bell ring when she had locked the car, so chances were that a dark-haired, dark-eyed, spirited little cannon ball would come flying at her any moment now.

And really, not even two minutes later Ziva caught sight of her daughter's red jacket among a sea of child-sized color streaming into the square. She crouched down at once and absorbed Tali's whirlwind approach with her embrace. When the little girl pulled back, she planted a smacking kiss on Ziva's cheek.

"Todah", she exclaimed, smiling brightly.

"For picking you up?", Ziva asked.

Tali thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "That", she replied. "And for tellin' me all 'bout the countries in the world."

Ziva laughed. They certainly weren't _all_ the countries of the world that Tali would frequently point out to her on the globe in the study. Ziva only had a story to tell for the ones she knew about and they were mainly countries that she had actually visited over the years. Naturally, she limited her accounts to her more tourist-y impressions and a few well-placed stereotypes instead of the backrooms, deserted buildings, dark basements, off-the-crowd streets and windy rooftops where she had spent most of her time executing her missions.

"Why is that?"

"Ms. Rachel did a quiz with us today and I did the bestest", Tali explained.

"Kol HaKavod, tateleh", Ziva praised and kissed her daughter's forehead. "I am proud of you."

Tali beamed at her. "Thanks, mommy."

When she got back up, casually slinging Tali's backpack over her shoulder, the little girl grabbed her mother's hand and off they went. They weren't in a hurry, for once, and so Ziva just enjoyed the bounce in her daughter's step while she sauntered along.

"I got lotsa stickers as a prize", the five-year-old continued, her eyes jumping from one kid, parent, teacher, dog - especially the dog - to the next and then back up at Ziva. "Two of 'em are for you."

Ziva squeezed the little girl's hand. "That is very generous of you, tateleh. Thank you."

"We can put one on your medal", Tali suggested, her eyes alight with her own idea. "So ev'ryone knows you're the bestest mommy for teaching me stuff."

Ziva moved a hand to brush some loose strands from her daughter's forehead and chuckled. "It is called a badge, my love", she corrected. "And if we do that, people will not know that I am an NCIS Agent anymore. They will get confused. Maybe we can put it somewhere else instead?"

Tali screwed her face up in concentration. "On your backpack?"

While the suggestion was innocuous enough for her professional appearance, she didn't want to imagine the fit her little girl would throw if, God forbid, that sticker went adrift. "How about you give it to me and I will put it on one of your drawings behind my desk at the office?", Ziva proposed. "You can choose which one."

"Okay." Tali nodded, obviously satisfied.

When they arrived at the car and Ziva held open the door for her daughter, the five-year-old stopped suddenly and looked up at her once again.

"We going home?", she asked and Ziva had to smile at the skeptical note ringing through her daughter's tone. Admittedly, Tony and she had provided little evidence as of late that a day off could really be expected from them.

"In a bit, tateleh", she promised. "We will have to go by your Aunt Abby's before."

While Tali's eyes had briefly narrowed, they relaxed just as quickly. "That's okay", she conceded with a shrug. "You can talk and I play with Liora."

Ziva chuckled. "We will not take that long."

Tali sighed and shook her head at her mother. Ziva was almost convinced she heard a soft _'tut, tut'_ slip from the little girl's pursed lips as well. "Mommy, Auntie Abby _always_ makes you talk for a really long time."

Ziva laughed out loud. "She does, doesn't she?"

Smiling at her daughter's insights, she helped her settle into the car seat. Ziva stalled enough while stowing away Tali's backpack to check the five-year-old's self-sufficient efforts to buckle up, which the little girl adamantly insisted was the _'big girl'_ thing to do.

* * *

><p>They rang Abby's doorbell twenty minutes later. Ziva had really only intended for it to be a quick stop-over to make sure everything was set for tomorrow and Abby didn't need anything, even though her best friend had decidedly denied needing help from either Ziva or Tony about four times yesterday evening. It just seemed so easy to Ziva. Yes, looking back on the past two months, it hadn't been easy at all. Recalling the conversation Tony and she had had in the break room weeks ago regarding April 23rd, things had come veritably thick and fast at them after that and April 23rd had rolled around with an undetectably extended bag full of gut-wrenching twists and turns: Her children had been endangered, people had died, people had returned, people had been hurt, emotions abounded. And now? Now they were going to get together and celebrate. How her life had changed…<p>

Nevertheless, true to Tali's expectations, Abby persuaded them almost effortlessly to come in despite Ziva's efforts to keep their conversation threshold-bound. Even though she had uttered the words _'lunch'_ and _'get home'_ about twelve times in various combinations, Ziva soon found herself standing in Liora's room and admiring the dress Abby had bought the two-year-old while Tali and Liora were playing some variation of _Catch_ in the living room, and enthusiastically so.

"I believe Tali has one in the same color", Ziva realized, quickly taking mental stock of her daughter's closet.

"Oh, she so gotta wear that", Abby exclaimed eagerly, clapping her hands together. "They'll be all aureolin adorableness."

Ziva laughed. The idea certainly was endearing. After all, based on a meticulously detailed itemization of her closet furnished by Tony himself, no less, Abby had handpicked a jasmine-colored dress for Ziva to merely approve and flaunt. The girls would brightly complement the color scheme.

"I'm hungry, mommy", Tali suddenly cut in, appearing in the doorframe.

"You're not really Tony's child until food makes you drop everything", Abby observed with a grin.

Ziva smiled at the truism and looked at her watch. "We should be going then", she suggested.

Tali cast a glance towards the living room where Liora was still merrily occupying herself and nodded her head. "The dress is real pretty", Tali commented as her eyes landed on the brilliant piece of clothing hanging from the closet door.

"You have one in the same color, tateleh", Ziva reminded her, absently playing with a lock of Tali's hair. "How would you like to wear that tomorrow?"

Tali scowled. "To school?"

"Not to school, silly", Abby interjected, still enthralled by the idea. "To the party for your mom and dad."

The look of contemplation that settled on Tali's face only etched the scowl deeper into the little girl's skin. Ziva realized that, up until now, Tony and she had only ever mentioned the April 23rd extravaganza in passing to their children. They had talked more yesterday in the car on the ride home from the hospital, so the kids knew that _something_ was going to happen at least. They hadn't been too elaborate, though. Not yet.

"Oh", was all Tali could manage for now and Ziva realized that her little girl would probably follow up an _'oh'_ of that kind with many more questions in a few minutes' time. "Then we can be dress-twins", she added with considerably more enthusiasm.

"And adorably so", Abby agreed, matching Tali's tone.

By the enthused looks Abby and her five-year-old shared, Ziva knew that Tali was sold on the idea. She made a mental note to iron the dress that evening, aware of the surprises her daughter's frequent rampaging trips into her own closet could entail. Later, Tali seemed particularly pensive on their way down the stairs, through the lobby and to the car. When she didn't protest being buckled in by her mother, Ziva knelt down beside her.

"Is there something on your mind, tateleh?", she asked tentatively, brushing a few fallen curls to the side.

Tali dipped her head to the side, looking at her intently. "What's the party for 'morrow, mommy?"

Ziva smiled. "Well, do you know what an anniversary is?"

Tali shook her head.

"An anniversary happens every year on a special day to celebrate that another year of something important has gone by", Ziva explained slowly. "Like a birthday, yes? When we celebrate your birthday, we celebrate that you are another year older."

"And your party's an a'versary?", Tali checked, her forehead set in concentrated wrinkles.

"Yes, your daddy's and mine", Ziva affirmed.

"That you got a year older together."

Ziva chuckled at the wording, but nodded nonetheless. "Exactly."

In a matter of seconds Tali's expression switched from confusion to curiosity. "How old are you together?", she inquired.

"Ten years", Ziva replied, holding up both of her hands with her fingers spread wide for emphasis. "That is why we make it very special this year and Aunt Abby has organized a big party for us."

"That's more years than Deed."

"That's right."

Tali pressed her starfished hands against her mother's palms. "That's a lot of mommy-daddy-years."

"They really are, neshomeleh", Ziva agreed.

"I like it that my mommy and my daddy have a really old love", Tali decided and nodded her head.

Ziva chuckled; it was too perfect not to. They were her biggest gifts, her children. The little moments, those perfect little moments, they never ceased to remind her of what had become of her life.

"Mommy?", Tali said, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Yes?"

"I'm still hungry."

Ziva shook her head at her daughter, smiling, and planted a kiss on her nose. "On our way", she assured her. She closed the door and got in herself, ready to go home, where Tony, she hoped, was already waiting for them.

* * *

><p>In fact, Tony was not only home already, David and he were in the midst of setting the table when they arrived. While she went to deliver her welcoming kisses, Ziva's question as to Eliana's whereabouts was met by David simply pointing upstairs. As it turned out, Tony had entered the apartment to a video call waiting and flickering incessantly on her computer screen. Eli had called to talk to her, but seeing as she had been out, return indeterminate, and David had been hardly the one to talk to about the culmination of their case and, in turn, settling for Tony had been somewhat out of the question anyway, Tony had apparently set Eliana up in front of an Eli-filled screen upstairs.<p>

"Why does that sound like a bad idea?", Ziva muttered, dropping a ladle into the pot.

"If the house implodes of Davids, you'll have your answer", Tony quipped.

"Then I better get her before that happens, yes?", she returned, already heading upstairs.

She was in no hurry, however. Ziva wasn't even sure if that much could really be shared between her parents. What were they going to talk about? Before she even knew what she was doing, Ziva had slowed her steps and stilled completely around the corner of the study. The door had been left ajar and she leaned against the wall outside, listening.

"-long conversation with Leon."

"Then there is little for me left to add, I believe."

"It is my job to know."

It sounded formal and to-the-point and, Ziva suspected, had probably all been case-related up until now. Ziva narrowed her eyes as though she could zoom in on her own memories that way. She did remember that her parents had just stopped talking at some point during her childhood. She remembered the conversations they would have whenever Eli had picked them up or dropped them off at home, how they had consisted of dates and places and numbers and times. They had never seemed to amount to more than that, just plain formalities.

That was when she realized, standing against a wall in her own apartment and eavesdropping like a little girl in her parents' house, that this _thing_ wasn't only her take on a second chance, her healing that was at issue. There were ravines of _not-talked-about_ between her parents as well.

"You are fortunate assets to each other, yes?"

A smile sprung to Ziva's face. She easily recognized the undertones in her mother's voice. Eli ignored the innuendo, however.

"Leon assured me that Kadeer would be delivered here."

"Hosmoya would have wanted-"

"I do not think that he should be granted that honor."

"Where did you- Ari. Where was he laid to rest?"

"With Tali. Ziva insisted."

"Of course she would." Eliana was silent for a moment. "Allow Kadeer to be with his sister, Eli."

Ziva dipped her head to the side, resting it against the cool surface of the wall. She had pushed those days far to the back of her mind. She had barely felt present in her own body during those days in Israel after her 2005 mission at NCIS. Escorting Ari back to Israel; having to undergo the scrutiny of the mission review Eli had mandated so he could legitimize his actions during the operation and secure his ascension to Director of Mossad; standing completely alone at their sister's, and what she had believed at that time also to be her mother's, grave because Eli had steadfastly denied Ari more than that - in retrospect, no wonder she had fled all of it at her earliest chance.

"-Tony was injured."

"And Ziva?"

There was a pause. "What is this we have allowed to happen, Eli?"

Her father was audibly thrown into silence for a few moments and Ziva first tried to imagine his expression, then the look in her mother's eyes, but she quickly abandoned both.

"We both made decisions we thought were right at the time", he said and Ziva could hear the accusatory note in his voice.

She wasn't sure Eliana would hear it as clearly as she did. After all, Eli had used that voice on his daughter many times growing up. He had a way to induce the wheels in your head to turn without you noticing it, and all of a sudden you would feel imperceptibly indebted and obligated.

"That is nothing Ziva is not doing herself now as well", he continued.

Ziva tried to listen in on Eliana's silence while simultaneously trying to keep from yelling that making self-responsible choices was something she had been left to learn through painful lessons and not something Eli had ever allowed her to do from the start. She really wasn't prepared to hear any more of this, though. Eli's opinion on these matters she wasn't interested in, not in this eavesdropped detail.

So, Ziva finally pushed away from the wall and stepped into the study. "We are back", she announced pointedly, causing both pairs of eyes to whip up at her form hovering in the doorway. "Shalom, Abba."

"Ziva." Her name rolled off his tongue in a mesh of greeting and commendation; something Ziva acknowledged with a small nod. "I still need to take care of a number of affairs here. But I will arrange to come to Washington next week, if that is alright with you?"

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "If you cannot make it a longer trip, I would rather you wait until you can", she countered. "The children will want to-"

"It will be a longer trip, Ziva", Eli cut in determinedly. "And I plan to be spending ample time with my grandchildren."

"Beseder." Ziva nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

She was still grateful, however, when her father's eyes diverted to a spot beyond his screen in Tel Aviv, some Hebrew was whispered in the background and he excused himself shortly thereafter. He promised to write her with the details of his trip before the screen faded to black.

"Lunch", Ziva stated simply when her mother's gaze settled on her.

Eliana nodded and braced her palms against the armrests of the chair. Ziva quickly stepped over and offered a hand, helping her up into an unsteady standing position. Eliana's eyes dropped to the fingers Ziva had curled around her forearm before she lifted them back up, searching her daughter's gaze.

"I feel like all that I want to say now I have said many times before", she mused quietly.

"I know."

"But we were in a good place, yes?", Eliana went on and Ziva was surprised to hear the obvious notes of hope in her mother's voice. "We were getting somewhere, yes?"

Ziva had no idea where _'somewhere'_ was, but she proffered a vague nod. "I will not deny... This cannot just go away. Killing-"

"I know", Eliana cut in, her tone sobering. She took a deep breath and Ziva's grip on her went slack. "I failed you again, Ziva. I know that I did."

"It is over. In the past", Ziva declared, holding Eliana's rueful stare. "The kids are looking forward to our lunch together. They wanted you to come back soon. It _is_ different now. And tomorrow-"

"You know that he will never fail you, yes?", Eliana cut in decidedly.

"I know." Ziva nodded. "I do not plan on failing him either."

* * *

><p>With Tali babbling on about her dress all throughout lunch Tony had been hit with the sudden urge to upgrade David's clothing choice for tomorrow as well, so that it would emulate his own outfit, much like Tali's did Ziva's. Despite it being a short-notice idea Ziva had found herself unable to issue that word of caution given the light in Tony's eyes and the fact that he claimed to have <em>'a guy'<em> who would take care of it.

Thus commissioned, father and son ended up on a shopping trip that afternoon to get a suit jacket for the eight-year-old and, as it turned out, a matching pair of pants. Tony even scored two identical handkerchiefs in the color of Ziva's dress. While he was aware that David wasn't too fond of shopping sprees such as these, Tony entered it a grand success in his daddy book that the eight-year-old checked with him at least five times whether they were really going to look alike tomorrow.

David had grasped the basic idea of it being his parents' anniversary. His dad even had this little story that his mom claimed only dad could tell well: about how they had met, about pizzas and coffees, and how they had become his mom and dad. He understood that they were celebrating another year of them together tomorrow and that his Aunt Abby was making it into a really big deal. He liked their parties. It meant that they would all get together and those get-togethers were usually really fun and there was always something happening and you never got bored and they were usually all in a really good mood. He liked his family that way.

"So, what are you and mom doing tomorrow, like really?", he asked eventually.

They were heading back to the parking lot, one of Tony's hands clasping David's and the other weighted down by three shopping bags. Tony looked down at his son. He had just been silently working out the details of explaining to Ziva how a targeted trip to the mall had resulted in three bags full of clothes. He got as far as dressing himself and David up in full dapperness and going with his son's _'momma's boy'_ appeal, before the eight-year-old's question had pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Make promises", he answered simply. "And you guys are our witnesses."

David shook his head. "I don't think I get it."

"It's like… Like we're marrying, you know? Just that we won't do all the official stuff like taking the same name or signing a real contract", Tony explained, crouching down before his son. "We're just doing the most important part: the promising. We're gonna make promises to each other and to you, to our family."

"What kinda promises?"

"That we love each other very much, that we always will. And that we'll stay together."

"Are you and mom gonna stay together forever?"

"Forever's a long time, you know?", he quipped at first, but David was clearly not interested in answers of the jokester variety. His serious expression didn't falter. So, instead, Tony lifted his right arm a little so that it was about level with his belt buckle and then lifted his left arm to about shoulder height, pushing out his forefingers. "I know where we started out, your mom and I." He wriggled his right finger. "And I know where we've come so far." Then he wriggled his left finger, which was higher up. "And if you put a line through these two points", Tony narrated, wriggling both fingers simultaneously before moving his right in a repeated, acclivitous line to his left and beyond, "Forever actually looks very possible." At the end, he just pointed at the sky, hazy through the afternoon sun.

David smiled at the demonstration. He was used to his dad's antics, but he actually seemed to mean it and when his dad really meant stuff, then it was even more serious than serious. "Promises are real important to mom, you know?", the eight-year-old reminded him.

"I know, buddy", Tony assured him, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "I really plan on keeping mine. It's just too hard to function without your mom anyway."

David laughed, but nodded his head nonetheless. "Mom doesn't work the same without you either", he observed.

Tony chuckled. "So, it's good we have each other then."

"And Tali and me."

"Well, of course", Tony asserted as he straightened back up and ruffled his son's hair. "The four musketeers."

David stopped before they had taken even three more steps, looked up at his father and narrowed his eyes inquisitively. "Four what?"

For a second there Tony pretended to look very much Janet Leigh in _'Psycho'_, but he recovered quickly and threw an arm around David's shoulders, leading him along. "Looks like we'll have to swing by the video store on our way home. You just picked our movie for tonight", he declared casually, nodding. "Much to learn yet, my son. Much to learn."

David just shrugged and went along with it. "Much to teach, dad."

* * *

><p>In the evening, as she was typing in Eli's email address, Ziva gave herself a moment to recognize how different things really were now: how dinner with Eliana had markedly outdone their earlier meals with her mother in both volume and lightness; how still Eliana had gotten when she had, if only fleetingly, noticed the picture of her that Ziva had put up that morning. The past two weeks really had changed much and yet had shown her, most evidently, what was fixed and stable in her life.<p>

A smile flittered across Ziva's face as she started to write. Her daughter's voice drifted up to her, mixing in with Tony's. They had been tasked with turning the living room couch into a bed for the night. Tony hated sleeping in the study, mainly because there was no TV there. Seeing as Ziva adamantly refused to get one in their bedroom, sleeping on the couch in the living room was a ready-made opportunity for him. Eliana was to get their bedroom tonight since the comfort of a real bed would go easier on her injury, the bathroom was much closer and it presently eliminated the hurdle of the staircase. Ziva vaguely planned on falling asleep with Tony on the couch later on rather than entertaining the idea of sharing a bed with her mother. It seemed at least one step too far in the brittle thing of a relationship they had managed to forge thus far.

"Mommy?"

Ziva stopped writing and cast a glance over her shoulder. Standing there in the doorframe of the study was David, his face rapt in contemplation. It was enough to make Ziva abandon the message to her father for now and turn around, beckoning him over to her. It didn't need much to recognize that there was something on his mind and she quickly offered him an encouraging smile as he came to stand in front of her.

"The bad man wasn't just grandma's job, right? He was here 'cause of her", he asked in a small voice, his eyebrows knitted together inquisitively.

Ziva breathed out a sigh. "Yes."

"He was after her, wasn't he? He wanted to hurt her all along", he went on, his tone hardening with urgency.

Ziva tilted her head to the side and looked at her son. She had not planned on relaying those details to him at all, but she couldn't just refuse to answer him either. Maybe he had overheard snippets of conversation between Tony and her. Maybe he had interpreted all the little things about the circumstances under which Eliana had entered their life. It didn't matter, really. She reached out and took a hold of his hand, using it to pull him into her lap.

"You are a very smart little boy, you know that?", she said, offering him a proud smile.

David returned her smile, but positioned himself in a way that planted his pensive, inquisitive gaze right in front of her. "So, it's true?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes, he came here because he wanted to hurt her", she explained slowly, linking her arms around him. "When I was little, my mother went away to protect us from him. He came after your grandmother because of her job. So, because of her job, she had to leave to protect us from him. And when he came back now, she tried to protect us again. But this time it was different."

"Because you worked together and caught him for her now, right?"

"Yes, neshomeleh, we did", she assured him.

David nodded. With his eyes downcast, he asked, "So, he can't hurt anybody anymore, right?"

"Yes", she reiterated and put every ounce of confidence into her tone. "He will hurt no one anymore."

"So, grandma won't have to go away anymore", he deduced, rolling his eyes up at her once more.

She smiled at him and lifted a hand to brush a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Maybe she will want to go to Israel again, tateleh", she suggested. "She has not been there in a long time."

"With Saba Eli?"

"Yes, maybe."

"But we'll visit again, right?", he checked.

"Yes, we will visit." Ziva nodded. "And she can visit us."

"But you'll have a mom again now", he declared, a smile settling in firmly on his face as well.

Ziva couldn't stop the chuckle that tore through her and she tightened her arms around him. "Is that important to you?"

"Moms are good?" He lifted his shoulders along with his eyebrows. "Everyone should have a mom."

"They should, yes," Ziva chuckled again. "But the ones that are most important in my life are you and Tali and your father. As long as I have the three of you, I _am_ good."

David leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek. Ziva smiled at the gesture. "But dad and you said every mom's different, right?", he tried again after a while, not ready to abandon that subject for good.

Ziva nodded, curious as to where her son was going to go with his. "We did say that."

"So, you just gotta figure out what kinda mom you need, mommy", he reasoned, adding a nonchalant shrug. "I'm sure grandma will try to be that for you."

"Do you think so?"

David nodded his head. "I think that means I trust her now", he mused, his brows furrowed ponderingly.

Ziva couldn't help but pull him into her for a tight hug, eliciting a laugh from her son. She dipped her head down to kiss his temple, smoothing her forehead against his. "Sometimes, my love, you have all the answers", she told him, a proud smile adorning her face. "Do you know that?"

David offered her a wide grin as he snuggled up against her. "Kinda like you, right?"

Ziva laughed out loud. "Only better, tateleh", she concluded.

There was a squeal of laughter downstairs and Ziva got the sinking feeling that the sudden barrage of thuds drifting up to them was a sure indicator of a pillow fight ensuing between Tony and their little girl.

David threw a glance over her shoulder. "Are you writing to Saba Eli?"

"Yes. He will be coming to visit soon", Ziva replied, turning them both around in her chair. "Would you like to help me?"

"You think he'll take us to his friend's garden again? The one on the roof?", he asked, fixing her with his hopeful eyes.

Ziva smiled and reached her arms around him, resting her fingers expectantly on the keyboard. "The least we can do is ask him", she said.

Tony's dramatized groan echoed from downstairs, followed by Tali's triumphant giggles. Ziva's smile easily widened. Yes, these little moments, for which she was so grateful.


	48. In the Midst of Time

_**There you go.** This is where I wanted to end this story all along, even two and a half years ago when I started it: April 23__rd__._

_**Thank you** for all of your thoughts and reviews and a shout-out to all of you who read and will read this story, especially to those who stuck around until the end. If I managed to keep you here, way to go out of this with a smile._

_**I hope**, like we all do, that some aspect of it might have held meaning beyond what it meant, for me, to write it. And as this is also my retirement chapter from fanfiction: So long! Farewell! - Coginom_

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<br>**_In the Midst of Time_

**Friday, April 23****rd**** 2021**

Ziva couldn't say for sure how she had felt on this very day ten years ago. There were a few things she knew for certain, though. She knew that she had just rebounded from a pregnancy scare. She knew that, despite being terrified of the idea still, Tony's unflinching confidence in their abilities as parents had settled her down and opened her up to the idea of children in the long run. She knew that Tony had promised her that they would last.

And they had. For the past ten years they had made it last just like they had told Gibbs they would on that April 23rd early in the morning in the middle of the bullpen. They had told him that they were going to make it work. They had. All the little tumbles and grander plunges along the way could not obscure the fact that they really had.

Ziva was fairly certain that she had been more nervous at this time exactly ten years ago than she was now. Because she wasn't nervous at all. There was nothing to be nervous about. There were things she had no control over, like the CD with their music getting lost or Tali and Liora messing up their dresses at one point or even unpredictably heavy sandstorms in the pre-spring Northeast. But those things didn't actually matter. There were things she could control, though, such as her own words, her promises and her feeling happy about this day. Those things were going to happen, no matter what. And then there were things she trusted would happen: Tony's words, his promises and his happiness. There was nothing left to worry about for today.

She was perched on the couch in the living room. It was still fairly dark outside. Tony and she had fallen asleep halfway through a bad horror movie he had chosen at around ten before midnight in lack of a more endearing selection. Since she had been practically lying on top of him with her body wedged comfortably between Tony and the backrest and her head supported by his chest, they had woken each other up three hours later with muscle cramps and slapping injuries they were inflicting upon each other. Tony hadn't even suggested she relocate to their bedroom. Instead, they had rearranged themselves on the couch, each using one armrest as a pillow and their feet entangled beneath the covers. When she had woken up half an hour ago, Tony looked as if he hadn't even once shifted in his pose.

Ziva had stretched and cautiously crawled forward, reclaiming her initial position against his body. Tony had stirred, but not woken. In the past ten years she had grown so accustomed to having him close beside her, so familiar was she with the arms that wrapped around her and the lips that landed soft, quiet kisses on her face in semi-consciousness. His Rota days had only reinforced that fact.

Her eyes dropped to his torso and she reached out a hand, tracing her forefinger diligently and in concentric circles over the side where the bullet had not hit the other day. All that time her touch kept a safe distance of a good two inches from where she knew the actual bruise was. Such, rapt in contemplation, she took uncharacteristically long to even notice that Tony was smiling at her through the weary slits that were his eyes.

"What're you thinking?", he whispered, dipping his head a little to the side to get a better look at her face.

Her movement stopped, but she didn't look up. "That some promises cannot be made", she said simply.

Ziva felt his chest heave with a small sigh before he cupped her hand in his and led it up to his mouth for a kiss. "But others can", he assured her, a soft smile settling on his face. "C'mere."

She followed the direction of his nod and crawled further up, tipping her body a little to fully melt into him, her face right next to his as she felt his arms close tightly around her. Tony breathed a kiss against her forehead. She ran a hand through his hair, her fingers coming to rest at the base of his neck.

It had still been early when she had last looked at the clock and they weren't in a hurry today. With this thought lying easy on her mind, Ziva had almost allowed herself to drift back to sleep. However, she was yanked back to wakefulness when Tony suddenly shifted his weight to his right and away from her. She looked up to find him reaching for the remote that was sitting on the coffee table. She frowned at him.

Tony offered her a sheepish smile. "I just wanna check the weather", he defended, finally managing to slip the device into his hand.

Ziva watched as the TV came to life in color and Tony started to flip through the channels. Her eyebrows lifted in a silent sigh and so did her body as she got up. In the corner of his eye Tony saw her head for the kitchen, sitting up when he reached the weather channel. He studied the mute maps for a few moments before switching it off again and following her, a smile on his face.

"Looks like Abby made a deal with the weather fairy. Apparently, we're in for late spring weather today. Now what- Ziva?" Tony stopped himself, his smile promptly fading. Ziva was hunched over her cell phone, scowling at the screen. "What's wrong?", he asked worriedly, stepping up to her at once.

Ziva shook her head, unnecessarily waving her phone at him. "Nothing." She cast away his concern with a brief smile. "A message from my father."

"What's it say?"

"It is a Jewish prayer", she explained quietly. "It is traditionally read at weddings."

Tony knitted his eyebrows together. "You told him?"

"No", Ziva declared simply. She clicked away the message and discarded her phone on the kitchen table, going over to lean against the counter and eye him pensively. "It is funny, yes? That the drama proves easier to share than the happiness?"

Maybe her mother and father really had talked about more than plain formalities yesterday. Maybe Vance had told him. Maybe Eli's resources were in fact endless. It didn't matter. Her father had never openly offered her his blessing for what she had with Tony and after years of craving nothing more than his approval, Ziva had learned to acknowledge his silent acceptance of her choices.

Tony smiled at her. He hadn't said a word to Senior about April 23rd either. That thought hadn't even occurred to him until now. Maybe, with Ziva's help, DiNozzo Junior and Senior could launch another one of their attempts at a relationship. _Maybe_, yes. But today was something he would share with his father only from a distance. Senior would have been hardly capable of appreciating this day for what it truly was - and if Tony wanted anything to be the theme of today, it was appreciation.

"I'll take the kids to school", Tony offered. "You can start on pampering yourself and after, Eliana and I-"

"It will not be necessary to account for me in your plans today, Tony", Eliana cut in from where she had just appeared in the doorway.

"Boker tov", Ziva greeted, receiving Eliana's nod.

"Why's that?", Tony asked.

At that moment there was an audible knock at the door. Ziva and Tony shared a puzzled glance across the kitchen tiling. Whoever that was, at least they were considerate enough to spare their kids an early wake-up call by way of the doorbell.

"That is why", Eliana replied with a smile.

Together they headed to the foyer and opened their front door to find McGee standing there, a slender wave falling from his arm. He didn't look as though he had been awake for too long. His hair was unnaturally tousled, his jacket hanging a bit askew and the smile on his face only managed to underline the faint shadow under his eyes.

"Eliana is with us today", he announced casually.

"Good morning, for starters", Tony countered and beckoned him inside, but McGee declined with a small jolt of his head.

"What do you mean?", Ziva asked, alternating her questioning gaze between her friend and her mother, who appeared completely unperturbed by the announcement.

"She can get ready at our place and we'll take her to Ducky's with us", he elaborated. "And Gibbs will pick up the kids from school later."

Tony gave a laugh, the gratitude that shone through his eyes betraying the disbelief that rang along with it. He glanced back at Ziva and it was only then that they noticed the small bag in Eliana's hands.

"Tim, that's really not-"

"Today's about the two of you", he quickly cut Tony off. "Make it about the two of you, will you?"

McGee nodded towards Eliana and she passed them by with a knowing smile. "I will see you later then", she bowed out, snapping the door shut behind them.

Tony and Ziva were left in utter silence for a moment while, as quick an exit as it had been, they allowed realization to slowly sink in: They had just been granted an entire morning and a bit of an afternoon completely to themselves.

"Well, if that is so", Ziva purred, stepping closer to Tony and tracing her fingertips down his chest. "We will take the kids to school together and then…"

She trailed off on the last word, her eyes landing on his lips. Tony recognized the seductive glint in them, enjoying the promises they held. He let his eyes rake down her body while he used the back of his hand to brush some intrusive loose strands of hair from her face. Ziva lifted her gaze only once, her eyes narrowing briefly as they touched down on his, but with a smacking pat on his cheek she jauntily turned on her heels and walked away from him.

A groan escaped his lips and he slipped a glance down the front of his body. "Don't just leave me hanging here", he called after her.

"Use your imagination", she suggested in a low voice as he followed her into the living room.

He puffed out a few scattered laughs. "Oh…", he hummed, "That would involve a hot tub, wet bodies, all kinds of wet bodies..."

She placed a foot pointedly on the lowest step and turned her head, smirking at him. "I think that can be arranged, _mon petit pois_."

* * *

><p>By the time they had dropped the kids off at their respective schools, Tony had pinpointed the second theme of the day: promises. Because they were making a lot of them just to get David and Tali to first get dressed, then leave the apartment and eventually get out of the car. They were promising a fun day at school, time flying by, a party they were not going to be late for because of school and, apparently, also a cake seeing as Tali told Ziva she was looking forward to it on their way into class.<p>

On top of that Tony had asked for promises of soapy-spongy-sexy time more often than he had ever thought he would by the time they were arriving at Ducky's in the early afternoon. They stepped through the massive gate with their hands entwined and clothes bags slung over their shoulders. They were greeted by Ducky himself, who was donning one of his best dark suits, white dress shirt and a properly light-yellow bow tie.

"Right on schedule", Ducky boasted, ushering them inside. "Anthony, you take the guestroom down the hall."

Tony arched his neck around the doorframe to his right to provide himself with a visual to the directions Ducky was indicating with his hand. He nodded and turned back to Ziva. "See you later?"

Ziva stretched a little and covered his smile in a departing kiss. "Will I even recognize you?", she asked playfully, her eyes narrowed.

"Just follow the love", he murmured, going back to her lips for a last peck.

Ziva watched her partner vanish behind the carved frames and embroiled tapestry. "And I?", she asked, eyeing Ducky curiously.

"You, my dear", Ducky stepped up to her and linked an arm around hers, leading her towards the marble staircase, "You take the salon. It was my mother's favorite room in this house, did I ever tell you that?"

Ziva shook her head vaguely. She couldn't remember ever having spent too much time in any of the rooms on the upper floor of Ducky's mansion, actually. Most of the guestrooms were on the ground floor, as was the dining hall, the kitchen and the grand parlor where they usually celebrated their Christmases together. Ducky pushed a door open to their left beyond the upper landing and Ziva stepped into a room that appeared, at least on first glance, to be covered on all sides in red satin. The furniture was emitting an oily glow in the afternoon sun that streamed in through big bay windows. It had a balcony hidden behind sheer white curtains and, she realized stepping closer, the room was looking out upon the front yard.

"No, you did not", Ziva replied quietly to his earlier question, her eyes still roaming around in awe. "But I can imagine."

Ducky offered her a gracious smile, giving her a few more moments to savor her surroundings. He waited until she had chosen one of the older lounge chairs to discard her bag on. Then he stepped up to her once more.

"As you might have guessed", he started, indicating the windows, "The festivities will take place in the back yard."

Ziva nodded. She reached out and took his hands in hers. "Thank you, Ducky. For all of this."

He knew it was no use to cordially dismiss her gratitude for the umpteenth time. "Everyone needs a fairytale to believe in, Ziva", he said. "Today, Tony and you are sharing yours with us. In _my_ old days, I shall do well to be grateful that I can be a part of it."

"This is hardly a fairytale, Ducky", Ziva laughed, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Oh, it most certainly is, my dear", Ducky countered and squeezed her hands. "Have you ever read a fairytale scant of hardship, struggles or a taxing quest for valor?"

Ziva dipped her head to the side and thought back to all the stories she had read as a child and all the stories she had read to her children. She slowly shook her head.

Ducky smiled. "In default thereof society would not have adopted the fairytale as a metaphor for magic and love and goodness prevails", he went on. "Fairytales can be terribly real, Ziva, as real as the love for which they stand in."

There was a knock on the door. Ziva felt momentarily robbed of words, her eyes still fixed on Ducky's. "Come in", she called out eventually and quietly.

"Hey Ziva, I was just-", McGee broke off when he saw Ducky and Ziva standing there. "This is becoming a bad habit. I'm sorry, I'll come back later if I'm-"

"No, it's quite alright, Timothy", Ducky assured him, stepping away from Ziva with a last smile. "I said all that was still meant to be said."

Ziva returned his smile and nodded. "Thank you."

"I will see you in a little while", Ducky promised, patting McGee's shoulder on his way out.

Ziva reached up two fingers to her face and pinched the moisture at the corner of her eye, finally shifting her focus to McGee. "You were saying?"

He chuckled slightly. "I just wanted to say that I'm here now", he explained. "So is Eliana by the way. And I'll be out back setting things up."

"Which means I am not to leave here until I am told to do so", Ziva deduced lightly, flashing him a knowing smile.

He smirked. "Pretty much."

"I will be good then", she promised.

"Good." He turned to leave, but stopped himself at the door. "You look your part, Ziva", he remarked with a congratulatory nod.

"I am not ready yet", she dismissed his comment. "I am not even wearing my dress."

"Nah, I have experience with this, you know", McGee insisted. "And it's never the dress or the hair or the makeup."

Ziva offered him an almost bashful smile and McGee felt instantly reminded of that day in the bullpen, when she had flaunted her passport picture with all the bashful pride she had ever been willing to muster. He was just about to leave again, when it was Ziva who called him back this time.

"Tim?"

"Yes?"

He watched her reach into her purse and hand him a small, black box. "Can you give this to Tony?", she requested. "He insists we do not see each other before."

"Old backdoor romantic", he quipped, taking the box with a knowing smile. "You got it."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>When McGee entered the room Ducky had directed him to, he could not help but linger in the doorway, the knob still clasped in his hand. They really had come a long way. The man who was standing at the body-length mirror on the other side of the room certainly wasn't the man anymore who he had met seventeen years ago. Tony's waistcoat was still unbuttoned, his dress shirt looked disheveled around the edges and he was fumbling with the knot in his tie, jasmine-colored just like Ziva's dress. The cliché wasn't lost on McGee and he couldn't keep from chuckling as he finally stepped inside.<p>

He was promptly met by Tony's glare. He crept quietly across the carpeted floor, passing the carved humidor on his left and the big king-sized bed on his right, and slipped the box Ziva had given him into his pocket before he reached out his hand. Wiggling his fingers demonstratively in front of Tony's face where the latter had left but a small crack between his body and the reflective surface of the mirror, Tony eventually relented with a sigh and took a few steps back. He dipped his head back and craned his neck, his arms falling limply to his sides.

McGee inspected the skewed triangle and nodded. "You're missing a fold."

Tony couldn't help but laugh at that. "There's first times for everything", he remarked.

He remained still while McGee untangled the knot Tony had tied about ten times already with always the same askew result and only turned back to the mirror when McGee gave him the go-ahead with a curt nod.

"McGoo marks of perfect", Tony observed, pushing the perfect triangle back against his collar, leaving a trademark dimple. "Thanks, Tim."

"You're welcome." McGee watched from behind as Tony finally proceeded to finish off his attire. "Ziva gave me something for you."

Tony whipped around to find his friend holding up a jewelry box just big enough for the smaller variety of items. He smoothed a hand down the row of buttons on his chest before accepting it into his hand. He tapped a forefinger lightly against it.

"Did she say what it was?", he asked. McGee shook his head. "Say anything?"

"Just to give it to you."

Tony nodded and snapped the lid open to reveal a ring with a plump golden hoop, offset by a flat bezel. He gently lifted it from the hook inside the box and up to his face. The edges of his mouth tugged his smile upwards and into a wide grin.

"What is this?", McGee asked, his eyes narrowing. "Reverse proposal?"

"No", Tony replied absently, spinning the ring around in his fingers. "That's what happens when Ziva has a long talk with someone."

"It's not from Ziva?"

"It's the DiNozzo signet ring", Tony explained, showing McGee the engraving on the bezel. "It's handed down through generations. My dad never came through, though."

McGee cocked his head to the side. "Looks like he did now."

Tony snorted, discarding the box on the high-backed chair to his left. "It does, doesn't it?", he said and finally decided to slip it on. He balled his hand to a fist, studying the result.

"Does it fit?", McGee inquired, already knowing the answer.

Tony nodded slowly. "Like it always should've."

"Better late than never, right?", McGee commented and his pointed smile made Tony laugh out loud.

* * *

><p>Gibbs pressed a finger against his lips outside the door to the salon. He could have guessed that Ducky would put Ziva up in that room, of all places. He gently pushed down the handle and slid the door open when it yielded to his grip, waving them inside. He should not have bothered with the stealthy antics, however, because as soon as the crack in the door was wide enough, Tali and David both squeezed through and barreled towards their mother. Ziva was perched on an upholstered bench in front of the dresser mirror, working on her makeup, when she was tackled from both sides by her kids. Tali latched onto her right, tightly hugging her waist, while David took to her right. He briefly wrapped his arms around her neck and planted a kiss on her cheek before pulling back with a smile.<p>

"They wanted to see you", Gibbs said, casually tipping his head to the side.

"Did they?", Ziva retorted with a laugh, pressing a kiss to their foreheads. "You did?"

Tali nodded against her, lifting her head enough to show off her grin. "We gotta show you something, mommy."

Ziva's eyes narrowed and she alternated her curious gaze between the kids and Gibbs, who sported a giveaway smirk. "The big project, yes?"

"Yep", David confirmed, his chest puffed out by pride. "Uncle Gibbs said we're in charge."

"In charge of what, tateleh?"

"Of the surprise, mommy", Tali clarified as she raised a palm to her mother's cheek as if wanting to console her for her ignorance. "And Deed and a I 'cided we wanna show you."

Ziva chuckled. "Well, let's go then", she urged and got up, ready to abandon her prepping endeavors for now.

At the door, however, they were relegated to a sudden stop by Gibbs, standing firm in the doorframe. Ziva eyed his lopsided smile with trained suspicion, chuckling once again at the way his eyes were fixed so intently on her.

"What?", she asked.

"This", he observed and waved a hand into her direction. She had an arm slung around one kid on each side, Tali's little fingers entwined with hers atop the little girl's shoulders. "Good practice for later."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "Practice for what?"

"The second surprise, mommy", Tali exclaimed and Ziva looked down to meet her eager gaze.

"Uncle Gibbs said we're in charge of taking you to dad too", David added explanatorily from her other side. "Like your guards."

She gave a small laugh. "Gibbs?"

A soft hum slipped past his lips. "Thought they'd make better company walking you up to Tony, 's all."

"And you-"

"I'll be there waiting, don't worry", he went on, finally stepping aside to Ziva's understanding nod.

When they arrived in the backyard, marching through high glass double doors, Ziva's eyes blocked out all else in favor of the towering canopy at the far end of the yard, beyond the flower beds, the cherry orchard and the pebble footpath that sectioned the lawn into symmetric patches. The kids instantly broke from her hold and each grabbed one of her hands, pulling her towards the chuppah and telling her of its name and designation along the way as if she didn't know exactly what it was, what it stood for and how she had hardly ever indulged in the thought of ever standing underneath one.

Ziva traced the carvings and ornamentation with her fingertips, feeling Tali's and David's intent gazes that followed her movements expectantly. She carefully avoided straying too far towards the center and just kept studying the poles Gibbs had obviously dedicated so many working hours to. She found nothing imbued with distinct religious meaning, at least the religions she and Tony had been brought up in. Gibbs had opted for nature symbols, long-winding designs and etchings. Glancing up, they had stretched a simple white cloth over the pole tops.

"It is beautiful", Ziva whispered, her eyes still lingering on the cloth and blinking against the gentle rays of sun that filtered through.

"We helped make it", David declared proudly.

"I know", Ziva said, smiling at him gratefully. She kneeled down on the grass and opened her arms, embracing them both into her for a bear hug. Tilting her head to both sides, she pressed a kiss against their temples. "Thank you very, very much."

Tali pulled back, her hands still linked around Ziva's neck, and offered her mother a satisfied grin. "We kept it a secret too", she boasted.

Ziva laughed, tapping the five-year-old's nose. "That was the hardest part, yes?", she inquired playfully.

"Oh yes", Tali agreed, nodding emphatically.

"There you are!", Abby called out suddenly as she came up to them with Liora clasping her hand. "Time to get ready, my little munchkins."

"But we still gotta show daddy the chuppah", Tali objected, her face set in dutiful seriousness.

"I know, I know. Uncle Gibbs told me", Abby assured her quickly and pointed over her shoulder towards the mansion, where Gibbs supposedly was. "And who's to argue with Uncle Gibbs, right?"

David nodded his head. "Well, he's the boss."

"That's right." Abby nodded, sharing a knowing look with Ziva. "Where d'you think you're going?"

Ziva had just straightened back up and was on the verge of leading the kids back inside. Her eyebrows shot up. "To get my children ready?", she suggested tentatively.

Abby cocked her head to the side and vaguely shook her head. "And who gets _you_ ready while you're at it?", she asked, motioning at the combination of jeans and a burgundy longsleeve shirt Ziva had yet to replace with her dress.

"I can-"

"You won't", Abby cut in lightly. She beckoned Tali and David over to her, but they didn't budge. Instead, their eyes automatically snapped back up at their mother and so Abby added, "McGee said Tony's ready. He'll take over."

Ziva pursed her lips, but nodded nonetheless. She turned to David and Tali and nudged them along to follow their aunt. "See you later, my guards", she called after them and they both threw wide smiles back at her. She watched them head up to the patio and vanish inside, until she heard grass-cushioned treads approaching from behind her.

"I'm proud of you, Ziver", Gibbs said, stepping up beside her and following her gaze.

"Gibbs", Ziva breathed. She slightly tipped her head forward and eyed him from the side, a smile playing on her lips.

He nodded. "Both of you."

"You told Tony that?", she asked in a low voice, knowing that Tony might have gone to see their former boss and mentor one of these days. She had a feeling.

Gibbs offered her a crooked smile. "He knows."

Ziva nodded and then let her gaze once again drift back to the ornamented poles of the chuppah. "Thank you", she said, her voice weighted down by emotion.

"You deserve it. Everything", Gibbs declared, fixing his blazing blue eyes on her. "Never think you don't."

Without another word Ziva took a step to her right and slowly wrapped her arms around the man who had served as more of a father to her over the years than her own father had. Yes, there were no substitutes, and Eli was a part of her life no matter what. But in that embrace, when Gibbs linked his hands against her back next to a chuppah he had built for her and the man she loved, it was Gibbs who proffered all the parental pride, the sense of accomplishment and appreciation that Ziva wanted to feel on this day.

* * *

><p>Tony's smile widened to a grin. He was crouching before David, buttoning up the dress shirt they had just decided would be best left untucked and helping the little boy into his jacket. In the meantime he watched his daughter through the corner of his eye, twirling and spinning around in front of the mirror to get a good, comprehensive look at herself in the dress that was apparently <em>'just like mommy's'<em>. They had even taken out five minutes of prep time just to compare the color of Tony's tie with that of her dress, concluding that the match was close enough to count.

Tony reached up on the dresser for the two handkerchiefs they had bought yesterday. He spread them out on his thigh and started to fold them into tiny _'houses'_, the way he had been taught at boarding school a long time ago and had always made himself remember. He chuckled inwardly at the merry irony of his cloth-folding associations and what he knew about chuppahs and what they meant. Then he gently slipped the handkerchief into the outer breast pocket of David's jacket and handed his son the second one to do the same for him. Tony smiled at the little boy's focused expression as he did so, his lips pressed into a thin line in a way that reminded him so much of Ziva.

Patting David's shoulder, he got up and led the eight-year-old over to join Tali at the mirror. "What d'you say? Do we look presentable?", he asked playfully, surveying their collective appearance.

Tali nodded her head vigorously, rolling her eyes up at Tony's reflection. "Now we just need mommy and we're perfect", she observed.

"Well said, princess", Tony laughed, running a hand down his daughter's hair. Abby had dropped in earlier to brush them into wide, gentle locks of a much more subdued kind than her usually wild curls.

"Are we ready?", David asked.

"Almost. But before we do this…", Tony said, once again crouching down and turning his kids around to face him. "You guys… You should know that your mom and I- This is for you as well, okay? This is not just something your mom and I do for us. This-" He drew a sweeping circle into the air above their heads. "It's about family."

"We know, daddy", Tali confirmed sweetly, palming his chest. "You love us."

"And we'll always be a family", David added, remembering their conversation from the other day.

Tony laughed. "Come here, you." He beckoned them over and enfolded them into his arms, chuckling lightly when Tali brushed a kiss against his neck. When he pulled back, he proffered both of his palms for a couple of _'go team!'_ high-fives.

"Off you go. Find your mom."

* * *

><p>After they had taken a wrong left in the corridor leading to the guestrooms and followed up with a few more wrong turns, Tali and David had found themselves in the kitchen and nowhere near the hall, or the staircase, or their mom for that matter. Thankfully, Jimmy had been right there, reheating a bottle for his less than complacent son, and had rerouted them, so that they skidded to a halt at the foot of the grand staircase just as Ziva was coming down.<p>

"There are my two escorts", she called out, smiling brightly at them. Noticing their synchronously furrowed brows, however, she corrected herself quickly. "I am sorry. My _guards_."

"You're so pretty, mommy", Tali gushed, smoothing a hand reverently over Ziva's dress.

Ziva carefully hoisted her ankle-long dress up around her knee and squatted down. "Thank you, tateleh", she said, kissing her daughter's cheek. "So are you. Like a real princess, yes?"

Tali leaned into her and nodded, regaled by her mother's praise.

"And you look _just_ like your dad, my love", Ziva enthused, trailing her fingertips along David's perfectly kempt hairline. Her son's proud grin, every inch innate DiNozzo, just served to reinforce her statement.

Straightening back up, Ziva held out her arms to them. "Shall we?"

David and Tali nodded in unison, each slipping a hand into hers. Together they walked into the parlor and out on the patio, where they instantly shushed the stream of voices into silence with their appearance. Taking a beat, Ziva let her gaze brush across the scene. A few stray chairs had been added as a prelude to the chuppah where Tony was waiting for her, hands folded in front of his body, looking almost anxious. They shared a small smile across the stretch of lawn that yet separated them.

Palmer, with his arms around his daughter, and Breena, their son perched on her hip, were standing to the left. It was Jimmy's wide grin, the one that managed to drive his glasses even further up the bridge of his nose, that elicited the first chuckle in Ziva. The second one was triggered by Liora being lifted onto McGee's shoulders, one of her little hands snugly clutched around his neck, while she used her free arm to wave at them excitedly. They were standing to the right. Abby beside them had her hands tightly clasped together and her forefingers pressed to her chin in what Ziva guessed was an attempt not to start crying.

Eliana poised near them, right next to Gibbs, and Ziva briefly caught her mother's smile before she gave in to Tali's tug on her arm and they recommenced their march across the yard. Tony watched Ziva, flanked by their children, as his family stepped ever closer. He felt like someone was gripping his heart, firmly, balled in a fist, and it momentarily sucked all air from his lungs. It was not until Ziva stopped half a foot away from him that he took a deep, steadying breath.

Ziva bent down and planted a gentle kiss on each of her children's hands, still cupped in hers. "Thank you", she whispered and they smiled proudly at her, knowing that they had done their job.

On Abby's cue David and Tali took a stand by their Aunt's and Uncle's side and Gibbs took their place, stepping up to Ziva. He placed his hands on her shoulders and tipped his head forward, kissing her on the cheek. Before he drew back, however, he whispered something into her ear. His voice echoed with the words from twelve years ago in the interrogation room, and Ziva's eyes suddenly filled with tears just as they had done then. She nodded her head as he let go of her, one of his palms lingering on her shoulder until she had taken her place across from Tony and their fingers naturally entwined.

"You made it", Tony quipped, his words only meant for her.

"Never gone", Ziva retorted, basking in the smile she elicited.

Ducky, who had taken it upon himself to moderate their little gathering, cleared his throat. "Tony and Ziva have chosen to stand before us today as their witnesses to the promises they want to make to each other", he announced, opening his arms, "As to their family."

They smiled at him.

"Tony, if you would like to start."

Tony looked for encouragement in Ziva's eyes and found their amber color doing just that. He felt the tip of her thumb as it ran in a gentle line along the side of his hand and he finally reached into his pocket, slipping out a crumbled piece of paper. He let go of her for the second it took to unfold it, before reclaiming one of her hands as soon as he had accomplished that task.

Tony chuckled at his own nervousness. "I wrote this a long time ago, so bear with me here."

Ziva squeezed his hand.

"I tried to live without you, Ziva- Well no, that's not really true", he started in a low voice, smiling into her eyes. "I never tried very hard. And I know now that I can't."

His eyes dropped to his writing, landing aptly on his next few words for he knew exactly where to find them. "I know now that it's not about saving and being saved. It's not about keeping score. It's about staying put and being the best we can be for each other. I promise I'll never leave you. I'll never leave our family."

He looked up at her. "Because I really can't", he declared, grasping her free hand once more and smothering the paper in the midst of their hold. "I ran away for a long time, and you didn't just stop me, you pulled me back and drove me against a wall. The more I tried to back away, I just dug myself deeper. Until I realized that the only way out was going forward, with you."

Ziva's mouth gaped upon Tony's last two words, spoken in a delicate breath, and the smile on her face lifted up the small pearls of moisture in the corner of her eyes.

Ducky gave her a few moments before summoning her response. "Ziva?"

"Tony", she breathed and she could feel him squeeze her hand as she had his. "Growing up, I was taught not to want this. All my life, I forced myself not to want this. I fought, with hands and feet and fists and guns drawn."

Her lips parted without a sound, one side of her smile digging deeply into her features. Her eyes fell onto his knowing smile. "My life unraveled and you waited for me to put the pieces back together. You gave me a choice. And when I did, I chose you. I chose life with you."

She lifted her gaze up to his eyes once again. "I promise to choose you every day", she declared. "Long ago, I longed for something permanent. Something that could not be taken, altered or changed. But _that_… That has changed. Because we are not permanent. We are not constant. We are not in the same place all the time. I will choose you over and over again, because I want to change and to grow, all our life, together with you."

A beat passed. The breaths they released in unison were audible and they drove matching grins onto their faces. Grins they decidedly caught with a lingering kiss. Tony cupped her face in his hands as Ziva's arms linked at the base of his neck, chuckling against each other to the sound of their family's enthusiastic clapping.

* * *

><p>Ziva stood by the tables where they had just been treated to a lavish feast. Ducky had just left her claiming a need to tend to his hosting responsibilities, so she let her eyes sway across the yard. All the kids had gathered around Gibbs and Palmer near the undersized partition wall that fenced off the patio. It looked as though the men were explaining some kind of game and the kids nodded their heads in all-around agreement. Then her eyes fell on Eliana, who was hovering around a hedge a little ways down the lawn, near the orchard. She was standing alone. Ziva pursed her lips. Frankly, if available, the kids' preferences were clear.<p>

Ziva tore her eyes away and let them wander to the other side of the yard, a bright smile settling on her face when she met Tony's stare from across the lawn. He was talking to McGee and Abby. He offered her a smile in return, but soon moved his head and the glass in his hand a little to the side, indicating her right. When Ziva followed his sign with her eyes, she found her mother taking small steps towards her.

Eliana smiled at the radiance that glistened so evidently in her daughter's brown eyes. "I knew that wide-eyed child was not entirely lost", she remarked. Ziva just nodded in return, once again drifting off as she watched Gibbs catch a ball that Tali was tossing at him. "I would gladly take credit for anything that I have seen here today. But I know it is entirely you who made it happen."

Ziva shook her head. "There is much more to it than that."

Eliana nodded and followed her stare into silence.

"What are you going to do now?", Ziva asked eventually, lifting her glass to her lips just to decide that she really didn't want to take a sip. She lowered her arm, fixing her mother expectantly in turn.

"I have not been to Israel a free woman in over thirty years", Eliana replied vaguely. Ziva merely nodded. At the very least she could understand that distant yearning for their homeland. "Eli gave me a choice. Return to my old identity or create a new one."

Ziva chuckled slightly. "I am sure he can arrange that, yes."

"I have not decided yet", Eliana added quickly, and once again Ziva reduced her opinion to a slender nod. Beyond that, however, she could feel Eliana search for her eyes. "What do- What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Ziva's eyebrows rose.

"Yes."

Ziva's gaze briefly dropped to the sparkling dots scurrying to the surface of the champagne in her hand. She remained silent for a while. "I believe…", she started, releasing a small breath. "Whatever you do, try to start over. If there is one thing I have learned, then that it can be well worth it to shed parts of yourself that you cannot longer carry around with you."

"So, you would be fine with it?", she asked quietly. "Even if it meant that Eliana David would cease to exist?"

Ziva shook her head. "That is not the point. The point is owning your choices", she said. "And you always existed. You will always exist. You just were not here for a lot of it."

Eliana stepped in front of her daughter, fixing her with a stare. "I need to know that you can understand", she educed, putting every fiber of former restraint into the determination gleaming in her eyes now. "Before anything I just- I need to know."

Ziva inhaled deeply and the edges of her mouth curled upwards in a smile. "I do. Of course I understand. The mother in me understands. I look at my daughter and my son and I understand", she declared softly. "But the daughter in _me_… She can never completely forgive you. And you know that she never will."

Eliana's mouth opened, but before she had a chance to generate a sound, Tali skidded to a halt in front of them. Both women's focus promptly shifted and they turned to the little girl. A few tears had struck wet trails across the five-year-old's cheeks, a sniffle escaping her lips as she rolled her eyes up at her mother.

"Mommy, I h-hurt my knee", Tali croaked.

Ziva discarded her glass on the table and crouched down in front of her daughter, a reassuring smile on her face. Her hands quickly went to her daughter's face, wiping at the tears that still threatened to fall from the Tali's deep brown eyes.

"Which one, tateleh?", she asked gently.

Tali raised her right leg and slid back her dress, showing off a small cut that stretched an inch across the side of her knee. Ziva inspected the wound and quickly ruled her daughter's tearstained face more of a response to shock and a bit of dramatics than actual pain.

"Need a fix?" Tony's voice emerged out of nowhere as he turned up beside them.

A knowing smile arched across his face as he held out one of Tali's more treasured princess-y band-aids. Thankfully, one of them always had a few of those in stock wherever they went. Ziva chuckled, her fingers grazing Tony's hand lovingly as she accepted the small piece of a fix from him. She skillfully turned Tali into her, allowing the little girl to perch on her thigh while she reached around her daughter and tended to the unfortunate cut.

For reassurance's sake Ziva planted a kiss on the tip of her finger and then placed her finger onto the injury, now hidden behind Snow White's smile. She tilted her head and brushed a few fallen locks from Tali's face. "All better now."

Tali eyed the band-aid closely, then looked back up into her mother's eyes. She threw her hands around Ziva's neck at once, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, mommy."

"How'd you get this anyway?", Tony asked, squatting down next to Ziva and regarding his daughter probingly.

The five-year-old sighed and rested her head against her mother's shoulder while Ziva absently started to caress her arm. Tali pointed over to where Gibbs and David seemed to have gone on to playing some variation of _Hide and Seek _together with Liora, Jimmy and his kids.

"That's outrageous!", Tony exclaimed, the wide-eyed expression on his face causing their little girl to giggle. He didn't waste another beat to scoop Tali up into his arms, holding his free arm out like a spear, ready to charge. "What d'ya say Don Daddy and Princess Tali go get their…_revenge_?" He drew the last word out in the deepest, most guttural grumble he could muster, eliciting not only more giggling from his daughter, but also a hearty nod.

Ziva watched father and daughter gallop off into the distance of Ducky's backyard as she straightened back up, smoothing out her dress. Eliana, having stood back, caught the reappearance of a radiant smile on her daughter's face.

"Everybody needs a mother, Ziva", Eliana insisted after a moment, speaking softly.

"Yes, they do. You and your grandson seem to agree on that", Ziva said, reclaiming her glass of champagne. She cocked her head to the side. "This is what every child should have, yes? Parents to take care of them."

Eliana nodded approvingly. "Yes. And you should-"

"You do not understand", Ziva stopped her, the smile on her face persisting. "Growing up I had more than just a grazed knee. But I had no mother to take care of me then, because my mother is dead. And she has been for over thirty years."

Ziva's words ricocheted in Eliana's ears. "You will never need a mother", Eliana reiterated to herself.

Ziva shook her head. "That is not what I said", she countered softly. "I just had to learn to live without one."

Eliana gulped down the last sip of her water, put away her glass and leaned against the table.

"I have made my life about _my_ family. It is them who I want to make proud", Ziva mused, cutting into Eliana's pensive stare. Ziva lifted her gaze to the three most important people in her life as they laughed and chased each other around. "Everyone else I measure up to how they fit with them. With _us_."

It finally dawned on Eliana what her daughter was trying to say. She nodded vaguely. "What about a good friend?"

"One can never have too many good friends", Ziva declared with a gentle nod. "They often become like family, yes?"

"Yes." Eliana nodded. "Then it is what we shall try."

Mother and daughter shared a smile that was only broken when Tony reappeared at their side, instantly taking a hold of Ziva's free hand.

"Drink up, sweet cheeks", he urged, motioning at her champagne. "I need to whisk you away."

Ziva narrowed her eyes, holding her glass aloft between them. "I hope you do not need me to be drunk for this", she quipped.

"I'd rather you be very sober, actually", Tony retorted.

Ziva laughed and passed her glass to Eliana, when her mother offered a hand. "Thank you", she murmured, and Ziva nodded, smiling, before giving in to Tony eagerly tugging at her arm.

* * *

><p>He led her a little ways into the orchard where he remembered a squat stone bench to be hidden. The bench was not entirely obscured from view and they were looking directly upon the patio, but it offered enough privacy, for which they were both grateful right now. They lowered themselves onto the bench, meeting in a kiss.<p>

"Thank you for all that you said", Ziva declared, her hand resting against his cheek.

Tony shook his head and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing the small case he had smuggled into his bag earlier at the apartment when Ziva had been distracted by looking for the car keys he had hidden in the kitchen. "Thank _you_", he replied, handing it to her.

"Tony, we agreed", she chided, cupping the case in her hands. "No presents."

"You made me one", he countered, showing off the back of his hand and the signet ring sitting on his finger.

Ziva traced the engraving on the ring. She hadn't actually looked at it when she had received the package from Senior. "That is different. This rightfully belongs to you."

He smiled at her perfect logic and moved to kiss her forehead. "And _this_ belongs to you", he insisted, tapping the case's velveteen mantle. "Open it."

Sighing, Ziva finally gave in and snapped it open, revealing a bracelet sprinkled alternately with white and red stones. "It is beautiful, Tony", she gushed, blinking. "You should not have-"

"I like to think it's the ups and downs", he stopped her, reaching over and lifting it out so she could get a better a look at it. He nodded at her hand. "May I?"

Ziva nodded and put out her arm, allowing him to fasten the bracelet around her wrist. She studied it reverently in the rays breaking through the leaves around them, a smile coming along on her face. "It is perfect", she concluded.

Tony grinned, obviously proud of making the right choice. He leaned forward again and captured her lips before swinging his leg over the bench and drawing her into him. Ziva rested her head against his shoulder and aligned her back with his body, melting into the arms he wrapped around her. She placed her hands on top of his, softly caressing them with her thumbs.

"Is there anything missing today?", she asked quietly after a beat of silence.

"You mean something we could work on?", he returned smugly, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

Ziva smiled against his familiar touch. "Would you have maybe liked for someone to be here, someone who is not or cannot be?", she went on.

Tony frowned. "I'm thinking you already had an answer before you asked the question", he retorted flatly. Ziva just raised her eyebrows in response and Tony let a sigh drop from his lips. "I like to think she's watching."

"Yes?", she asked and he nodded. "And would she approve?"

Tony laughed. "I think, over the years, she would have fluctuated in her approval", he mused, pulling her closer into him.

Ziva chuckled. "You think?"

"She was kinda protective of me, as far as I remember", he went on, cocking his head to the side. "And admittedly, she was a bit crazy. She'd probably have gone through calling you the names of more or less flattering movie characters."

"And what character do you think she would mete out to me now?", Ziva asked, sincerely curious, as she absently stroked his thigh.

"She'd probably stick with Ziva", he said. "She'd love you for making me write my own screenplay. My own story."

Ziva turned in his arms only to find his eyes gleaming back at her, fully sincere. She dipped her head forward for a kiss. "I love you, Tony."

"I love you", he said, smoothing his finger over her lips. "So, is this the happy ending to our story?"

"I do not believe in happy endings."

"I know. That's why I ask."

"Why does anything have to end at all?", she countered, frowning. "Can it not be our middle?"

Tony smiled at her, realizing just how far they had come. "Happy middle? Apart from being an obvious cliché, but the middle's still just the measly little stretch stuck between the beginning and the end, isn't it?"

"You are right. It is a thankless part." Ziva smirked. "So what is it that we have?"

"To be continued, whatever happens?"

"Whatever happens." She leaned over for another kiss, speaking against him, "I like the sound of that."

"Speaking of sounds…", he said as they pulled back, both not oblivious to their children calling out for them.

They cast their eyes towards the patio and found Tali running towards them, holding her dress up at the knee the way she had seen her mother do all day, even if hers didn't even reach much below her knee at all. Ziva's eyes flickered to Tony and they shared a smile. David trailed behind her, slower, more considerate in his treads. Ziva had caught her son watching them from afar. She wondered if he would ever stop needing these moments and reassurances that they were there and steady and around; or if he would be much like his father in this regard. But he looked so big, so grown-up with his black jacket and the loose white shirt and the black, grown-up shoes he had shown off to her ever so proudly the other day.

On this day, maybe more so than on any other day, she was looking forward to the kind of people she could see her children becoming. She was looking forward to the artist she saw budding in David; the sensitive, generous and mindful over-thinker that filled her heart with almost painful knots of love whenever he got a chance to inquire about somebody's feelings. To mind feelings was a gift that she could give her child; words instead of guns and fists were another.

She was looking forward to the horse-riding ballerina, the drama group starlet, the panda-hat-and-rainbow-skirt toting whirlwind, the track-running movie buff and all the other potential sides of her daughter that she could see vying for precedence within her; the expressive, innocent and emotive mile-a-minute-talker that made the world come to a halt to be keenly re-evaluated whenever she rolled her dark, wide eyes up at you. If Tali just retained her truest self, then Ziva would have all the proof, all the reassurance, that she had granted her children different, all so different.

"Uncle Ducky wants to make a toast", David informed them as soon as they arrived at their parents. "Aunt Abby said to get you."

"I donno why, though", Tali threw in skeptically, shaking her head. "We just had lunch."

"He wants to say something, Tali", David corrected, raising his eyebrows at his sister.

Tali scowled. "With toast?"

Ziva smiled, running a hand through her daughter's remarkably complacent locks. "Be patient, tateleh. You will see", she promised.

Together, all four of them, they went back along the small footpath leading up to the yard. Ziva felt Tali let go of her hand to skip ahead. She nodded at David, who looked back at them before following his sister, soon barreling after her. Tony, beside her, ran his thumb in repeated lines over the knuckles of her hand: up and down, down and up, up and down. Even if at times it felt as though her life was just a series of _not-quite_ moments, she somehow always managed to go on, get back up, try again. They did, and always would, together.

Reading her thoughts through the eyes she lifted up to meet his, Tony squeezed her hand. A moment of silence as they caught each other's smiles.

"Mommy, Uncle Ducky says he gots no toast."

When the voices came crashing in, and the laughter followed, they knew they were back among family again.

As it should be.

_**THE END - …the ides of time… - THE END**_


End file.
